Behind Emerald Eyes
by QueenWeasel
Summary: It's been five years since Hogwarts has ended and Voldemort defeated. Harry Potter has been living a life of solitude friendless and alone. Until a new danger rises. [COMPLETE]
1. Numb

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**Numb**

_"I'm tired of being what you want be to be, feeling so faithless, lost under the surface. Don't know what you're expecting of me, but under the pressure, I'm walking in your shoes..." - Numb by Linkin Park_

Rolling clouds of stormy grey thundered across the sky. Lightning streaked from the looming wall, illuminating the setting sky. Drops of rain the size of pennies fell with a free mass. They splattered upon rooftops and the paved roads below. Passers beneath quickly opened their umbrellas, like many collared dots from above. The streets of London were packed with thousands of Muggles, quite unusual, as the weather was enough to keep the birds from singing lulling tunes.

Below in the street was Piccadilly Circus. The streets were lined with various people, just walking and enjoying the company of the ones at their sides, or the silence of their own minds.

A few stragglers hung from their two-storey windows watching while in the cosy interior of their rooms. In one window on the third storey, a shadowy form was poised just before the sight of the street below. Coal black hair spilled just below his chin though it had a slightly wind-blown look to it. Upon the hand, grasping the window edge was a small black rune tattooed just above the knuckle on the middle finger. It was an ancient rune, stated in Elfish.

Moving back to the half-shadowed face, coming across the figure's eyes. Looking strangely bright compared to his hair, two emerald pools gazed blankly down to the congregation. His features were hard and cold with that stare. The depths of the eyes went many layers but you only could see one. Sadness.

Harry Potter had been missing from the Wizarding World since Voldemort had been condemned to the after life. Without any sign of his where-abouts, the witches and wizards had to thank his heroism and extra-ordinary bravery through the media. The Aurors had caught all the remaining Death Eaters left over from Voldemort's reign and had them sentenced to life in the now, wizard run Azkaban Prison. Azkaban had been without Dementors for seven years. In Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the soul-sucking fiends had proven their loyalty to the Dark Lord by abandoning their posts and freeing the imprisoned criminals.

That year at Hogwarts had possibly been his worst. His summer after Sirius Black's death had been filled with raw emotions and erupting anger. Plus the ever increasing secrets kept by the one Albus Dumbledore, and you have a truly disturbing year for the boy-who-lived. Harry's seventh had been the most memorable. But not for any good reasons.

Harry's last year at Hogwarts had been the year Voldemort had left the plain of the earth. It had been the year Albus Dumbledore, the most looked-up to wizard of all time, had died. It was none of these things that plagued Harry's sleep many nights. It was the fact, that in his last year at Hogwarts, after many years of laughter and tears between himself and his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger; it was in his last year that they left him. A hole had been gaped into his heart and soul. And it remained there to this day.

Harry Potter turned from the window and sank into shadows.

A cool breeze blew a silky curtain and wisped out the tiny candle flame keeping the dark from falling and the sight of a single tear slipping from a pool of green.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

Since the disappearance of Voldemort all those years ago, the Wizarding and muggle worlds

had been lapsed into calm and peace. No more hiding out in the dark, afraid of a fear so great you could not even say its name. No more terrifying days too afraid to allow your children in the streets to play. The previous Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had stated it was all his doing that Harry Potter was able to murder the most horrible dark lord to ever live the earth. That had been the last of the Minister's public statements.

After a state-world election, a new Minister had been chosen. For five years Arthur Weasley, father of seven and wife of Molly, had been in charge of the Ministry of Magic. Things had changed since his stand as head. No more discrimination would be forced upon those burdened with gifts they had no control over, such as the curse of the Werewolf. No witch or wizard could refuse a man, woman or child certain privileges because they were werewolf or half-blooded.

Any sign of authority figures using their power to abuse or blackmail other figures of staff would immediately be sacked and sentenced to a minimum of a month in Azkaban. This led to much anger and debated issues but that did not last long. Once the Minister had spoken, that was the end of it.

The most important change, in Harry's eyes was that of thus. If a form of underage magic was used to such a degree that a hearing had to be called, all the pieces of evidence would be examined closely and no means of ill judgment would be used to find the person guilty or innocent if the jury or Minister pointed otherwise. The old courtrooms had been banned from usage for such minor cases and any form of underage magic that was purely self-defence was allowed.

Harry felt minister Weasley had placed these decrees in place for solely the fact that they had been issued against him in his fifth year. Harry was thankful, but still felt remorseful towards the Political Wizarding Parties. Over his years, they had given him hell and he was not so easily forgiving. The two last years at Hogwarts were filled with snide remarks and ghastly rumours towards the boy-who-lived, and his wise headmaster.

Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had been one hundred and fifty-five years old when his life had been taken by the hands of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

In the second last month of the last term, Lord Voldemort and his followers had launched a strike against Hogwarts. The darkest of creatures had followed him and if it weren't for the Defence Association led by Harry, many would have had their souls sucked out by deadly Dementors. With the life-sucking fiends; Vampires, Banshees, Dragons, Goblins and the thousands of dark wizards known as Death Eaters had flown into the grounds of the high prestige school and watched their master destroy it and the occupants. Of course, the students and teachers had fought back, but many died as the hands of the enemy.

When Albus Dumbledore stood beside Harry Potter just as the sun was setting, Lord Voldemort faced them. Red as the fires of hell his eyes had burnt. They duelled. With powers, so strong and fierce many had to stand back due to the energy wavering from the three wizards. Awe and fear stuck on their faces as they watched the famous Harry Potter fight the most powerful Dark Sorcerer of their time.

And watched their powers match.

But the headmaster's old age had caught up with him. And Harry's thickhead had weighed him down. A green flash was all it had taken to rip the life from the old man's body and the twinkle to fade from the once joyful eyes.

Albus Dumbledore had died saving the life of the prophesized boy-who-lived. That's when it had started. Loosing control but gaining strength, Harry Potter had launched upon Lord Voldemort. After an antagonizing battle of force and after an immense clash of power, Harry was left standing above the lifeless body of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Strangely, when the life had seeped from the Dark Wizards soul, the transformations had vanished from the once young body. When the Aurors had carted away the body it looked like the seventeen-year-old Tom Riddle who had plagued Harry's second year as a memory.

Harry Potter had vanished like a candle in the wind. He left his two best friends glaring at him as he disappeared into the reappearing Wizarding World. When Voldemort had attacked the school, Harry being noble and heroic, had forced his two friends to stay in the castle and guard the younger students. Them being just as strong-minded as him had said no. Placing a Boundary Charm upon every entrance in and out of the castle, Harry had left them inside the sanctuary of the castle, screaming at him to let them fight.

When the battle was over and Harry the victor, Ron and Hermione would not look or talk to him. So, after making sure Voldemort was truly gone and saying his final respects to the headmaster, he had fled. And to this day, the trio had never been sighted together again. They had created their separate paths and lived a life void of Harry Potter and his unwanted fame.

But Harry was lonely and missed the two people he had loved the most. Living life a lie and in shadow was what he did now. Refusing to venture into the Magical World or contact anyone from within it, Harry had become a shadow. Guilt plagued him regularly. Guilt from three deaths that he could have prevented. Cedric Diggory being the first. He was just a glitch in Voldemort's early plans to annihilate Harry. Sirius Black was next. This death probably affected him most. Although he was not his father, he had been so close to being a substitute for James Potter. When he was lost, so was Harry. It was only Ron and Hermione who had brought him back and made him see the reason why Harry was alive.

And Albus Dumbledore's death had been a complete shock.

It was as if the light of the world's power had switched off. For many months after the death, people were lost. They did not know where to go or what to do now that their leader was dead. Never to return. That was why Harry had fled. Even though he had been the one to finish Voldemort once and for all, he still was responsible for taking the life of the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; leaving Professor Minerva McGonagall to be headmistress and rule the school.

Those were the reasons Harry Potter was living in the middle of Muggle London, in a third storey apartment. He had been living here since his escape from the Wizarding World. Working nights as a Security Guard in the local Town Square, he had lived a pretty ordinary life. But it was a hidden life. The fact that he had to have a roommate was hard enough.

Dave Ream was a muggle man the same age as Harry. With light hair and dark eyes, he was the usual British muggle. He worked as a Computer Technician for the local company _Harriett's Machines_. With an incredible mind and quick wit, it took all Harry's worth to keep his secret form him. Even though all his old school stuff was locked in a Safe Locker in the basement of the Building, he still had to keep small things from slipping.

With the identity James Black, he was able to lead an almost normal existence as a muggle man. But dreams and flashes still plagued his sleep and mind, and it finally led to him having to take Sleeping Pills prescribed by a muggle doctor to keep them away. His room was simple and bare. Containing his bed, dresser and desk. A few personal items were stashed in odd places. Like his photo album given to him by Rubeus Hagrid in his first year at Hogwarts was hidden beneath his pillow and a scarlet and gold badge was placed in his top sock drawer. The letters _HB_ engraved upon it.

So was the life of the legendary Harry Potter. Reduced to the standards of a muggle and living a life in lies. No two friends had he like Ron and Hermione, and no surrogate family like the Weasleys. He did not have any parents to say how proud they were or any siblings to laugh at his miserable life now. Harry was alone and miserable.

When he lived under the shadow of Albus Dumbledore, he had been forced to do things that he wished he did not have to. His life had been set for him. A destiny read before he was even born. Living as the unfortunate hero he was, he hated it. People looking at him as if he was some sort of saviour. People judging him by what they read and not what they saw. By the time, he was in his last year he was sick and tired of pretending to be someone he wasn't.

He was tired of stopping himself from acting the way his heart told him. Preventing things that he wanted to do but was afraid at what the consequences might hold. But that time was over. He was free of reign and able to lead his own life away from all of the 'boy-who-lived' nonsense. Now he was James Black. _Muggle. Security Guard. **Normal**_.

But sadness like no other tugged at his heart as he gazed at the happy people on the streets below.

He was alone.

Truly alone.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter and never will. 

**Hey, people how was that? Well, if I get enough reviews I will continue like always! So take the time to press that little button down there and tell me what you think!**

By the way **HB** stands for Head Boy

**Thanks!**

**DW**


	2. Jaded

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**Jaded**

The night was cool and shadowy. An orb-like moon hung high in the dark sky. Thousands of lights sparkled down to the world. The Dog Star: Sirius was exceedingly bright tonight.

In a large town square, cloaked in darkness by the surrounding buildings, a lone figure walked. A ring of keys jingled softly at his side at each of his slow steps. A black club hung at his hip and a identification badge was pinned to his chest. Just barely in the night, you could make out the figure's name printed in bold.

James Black was once more on his job. He liked strolling through the dark. He felt at home within the shadows and one with the starry sky. Many who gazed upon this Security Guard would think he would hate having to work through the late hours of the night. Not knowing if masked assailants would pounce from behind a tree. Never knowing if tonight would be his last patrol through the cold air. A man could, at any moment, strike and take his life. But James Black was prepared and aware of the dangers much more than others. Apart from his club and a bottle of pepper spray at his side, he had one more secret weapon tucked into his belt.

A wand was strapped beneath his pants. It had not been used in years and James only carried it for an extra precaution. He did not want any unwanted 'visitors' turning up during his work hours. 'Visitors' being people from his past. People he rather would not meet again. Especially when he had finally picked up his life as another person. Someone who wasn't picked out in a crowd because of his symbol-like scar. James Black had received the scar in the car crash that killed his parents when he was young. The story was like a second nature to him. While in the care of his relatives, Harry Potter had been forced to resume that false story about his past in order for his aunt and uncle to seem like 'normal' citizens in their most standard neighbourhood.

Once more, Harry had to cover up his true calling. But this time it was his own tongue that spread the lie. Using it to hide his identity and unforgettable past. On his night shifts which were on every night of the week bar Saturday and Sunday's which were his days off. Every night he would begin his shift at eight in the evening and finish at six in the early morning. During this time, he was allowed two hours off. He could take them off individually or all at once. Usually, he would take them off individually, strolling around to the local Twenty-Four Hour supermarket and buying his meal.

Tonight, he did not feel like taking his break. Memories of his school years had been flooding back into his head recently. Visions of his friends and professors. Peers and enemies. Draco Malfoy occasionally flashed in his head. The blond-haired Slytherin had proven his loyalty to the Light in their seventh year. He became a spy to the Death Eaters just like the Potions Master, Severus Snape. When their final year had ended, the boy went off to Auror Training and had become next best under Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks.

Under friends, the pictures of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley popped up. Even though they had not spoken or seen each other in over five years, Harry still thought about them and wished things had not changed. He knew nothing of their where-abouts or what they had mounted of themselves. All he knew was that Ron's father was Minister, his brother, Percy, went out with Cornelius Fudge and Ginny Weasley had went to work with Charlie Weasley in Romania.

Harry missed Hermione desperately. She had been with him all through his schooling years even when he and Ron had fought in their fourth year. She had always been there for support and information. But now, she was gone, and Harry knew nothing. Whether she was alive or dead, the information had not been heard by his ears.

An hour passed.

The distant chiming of a clock could be heard striking the twelfth hour. Sighing lightly, James Black ran a hand through his messy dark locks. Dropping his hand almost immediately, the man scanned the shadowy spaces looking for any signs of life. An owl hooted from the top of a tree. James glanced at it cautiously. He had not received an owl for over four years. The last owl he received was from Ginny Weasley stating she was giving up on trying getting him back and that it was going to be her last letter. With only minimal sightings through his many years away, Harry was getting slowly used to their absence. Hedwig, his own snowy owl, was left in the care of Hermione. After all these years, he doubted whether she would be alive.

A sudden beating of wings drew him from his reverie. The owl had taken flight, the branch swaying softly where it had pushed. Hanging his head down, he continued his long-winded patrol. After a few hours of walking around the same spot, nothing to do but watch around with tired eyes, Harry was feeling slightly peaky. His head ached and stomach growled. The occasionally howl from a hound would waken his mind but his body was still exhausted. He hadn't slept the previous day, being too wrapped in thoughts of old acquaintances.

A brief shuffling of steps made him alert at once. It seemed to come from his left beside the bleary fruit stall. Squinting through the darkness and taking a firm grasp of his club, Harry moved forwards. It was much easier to see in the darkness now, after having his eyes surgically mended by an expert muggle doctor over a year ago. Now his vision was perfect.

He could just make out a dark form, hidden behind half the stall. It was hard to tell if they knew he was there or if they were dangerous. Being of Gryffindor courage and mind, Harry cleared his throat and spoke out.

"Hello? Can I help you?" His voice was startlingly loud and ringing. It reverberated from the buildings and seemed ten times louder than when he first spoke. The person stepped back, knocking over a crate of fruit behind them. Harry ran forwards when the figure stumbled and sped off. Not bothering to chase them in the dark, Harry skidded just before the apples rolling along the concrete. The night form was gone, their steps slowly fading in the distance. Something sparkled on the ground at Harry's feet. Bending and picking it up, he squinted to see what it was. It was a coin. Not just any coin, but a golden Galleon. Feeling his stomach drop considerably, Harry looked up and into the shadows to where the person had run. A witch or wizard had just been here. And they had known that it had been Harry Potter only a few paces away.

The sun was just setting in the sky when Harry stumbled into his apartment at six-fifteen the next morning. The rest of his shift had been pretty uneventful, but he had stayed alert, hoping his magical visitor would return if only for Harry to know who it was who tracked him down.

Dave was already up and eating a bowl of cereal at the table. He looked up when he entered and grinned a white toothy smile.

"Morning, James, have a nice night?" Harry grinned back sarcastically, dropping his keys and work items upon a door-side table. Slumping into a chair and pulling the health food towards him, Harry began his breakfast. Dave's dark eyes were watching him from across the table. A penetrating gaze which could detect when a person was lying came with the quick mind and smart intellect. A characteristic Harry also had to watch closely.

"What happened?" Harry looked up to his friend. That man would not miss anything. He already knew Harry had encountered someone or something during his shift. Shrugging, Harry shovelled another spoonful of food into his mouth. Dave only raised an eyebrow. Finally swallowing, Harry answered.

"Just met another night time stroller. Nothing much…" it wasn't a lie although Harry did not think it was 'nothing much'. With only a raised eyebrow in response the two young men continued their breakfast in silence.

Once Dave had left for work around seven, Harry wandered into his room and collapsed on the bed. The room he had called home for over five years looked glum and depressing this morning. With a grey light shining through the closed window and shadows lurking behind every corner, Harry shut his eyes. Sleep overcame him almost instantly, his night patrolling having taken much more out of his body than usual. Still wearing his Guard Uniform and not bothering to remove his club, Harry slept quite uncomfortably.

The sun had risen to the centre of the sky by the time Harry awoke. He could have kept sleeping for another hour or so but a slight burning on his leg had roused him. Sitting up from the covers and struggling to put his hand in his pocket, Harry's leg was starting to sting. When his hand was released from the tight pocket and with the darkness around him, Harry could see an object, glowing softly, in his hand.

The burning stopped.

Harry looked a bit closer. In his hand was the Galleon he had discovered the night before. But it was not a real Galleon. It was fake. And by the look of the small inscriptions around the edges, Harry knew exactly where it had came from and who made it. And it terrified him.

This was one of the fake Galleons which had been used in his fifth year as a means of telling others when a DA meeting would be taking place. Hermione Granger had performed the Protean Charm on Harry's so all of them mimicked the dates on his.

Harry knew every single member in that small Defence Group. And now he knew that one of them had kept their Galleon over all these years. And that person was the shadow hiding from him the night before. Now someone was calling for them using the coin. But how? And why? Harry's coin was the only one which could have triggered the others to heat and his had been lost long ago.

He lay back down, staring blankly at the ceiling. Someone from the Magical World had been there last night, watching him. What did they want? And who were they? If they had been someone from the Defence Association, someone he knew, why hadn't they approached him? Why hadn't they spoken?

Sleep did not roll peacefully over his mind that time. Memories replaced the dreams. And they were more terrible than the night visions. Much worse. Because these Harry knew were real. He knew that he couldn't go back and change what had happened in his previous life. What had happened, had happened. And there was nothing left for him to do but view them one last time.

First year and the Philosophers Stone. How he made his first two true friends that had always been there for him. How he had accidentally killed Quirrel but accomplished in putting a stop to Voldemort's plans. His first real victory.

Second year and the Chamber of Secrets. The basilisk and the memory of Tom Riddle. How the crazed young Voldemort had taken over Ginny Weasley's mind and controlled her. And the thought of how he had felt when he had seen the small girl laying on her side. Body cold and pale. Barely breathing. And Tom Riddle looming at her side. Laughing. Again Harry stopped the Dark Lord's plans, he himself almost dying from the Basilisk's venomous fang filled with deadly poison.

Third year and the first appearance of Sirius Black. James Potter's best friend. Harry's godfather. Animagus and first prisoner ever to escape Azkaban Fortress. And he would still be alive and free to this day, if it hadn't been for Peter Pettigrew. Also a Animagus but a traitor. Responsible for killing Lily and James. For killing Harry's parents and framing Sirius. Although Sirius had been set free, if not by law but in heart, Pettigrew escaped. Anger boiled in Harry's veins to this day. The snivelling rat of a man had not been seen since the day of Voldemort's demise. He had escaped once more. Harry vowed to find him and kill him like he should have done the first time he laid eyes on him.

Fourth year was the Tri Wizard Tournament. In this year Harry witnessed the death of Cedric Diggory and the rebirth of Lord Voldemort. He discovered traitors and his true friends. Having survived a duel with the snake-like being, Harry was once more kept in the dark about why everything had happened to him. Why Voldemort was chasing him and why his parents' lives had been taken and his own spared.

His fifth was the worst. Loosing Sirius was the hardest thing. And hearing the dreaded prophecy was enough to drive him to his peak.

A sudden noise interrupted his thoughts.

Sitting up from the bed and creeping to the door, he looked to see the front door handle wobbling. Voices were sounding from the hall outside. About to pull his wand on the intruder, Harry lowered it in time. What he thought was another unwanted visitor turned out to be his roommate, Dave. The blond-haired man was laughing. Harry smiled, stuffing his wand back down his pants and hiding it beneath his untucked singlet.

Painting a false smile on his lips, Harry yawned and strolled out to meet him. But stopped when he noticed Dave was not alone. The man guided a young lady in behind him.

"Hello James," said Dave.

"Hey, Dave…" said Harry unsteadily. The woman grinned at him, sparkling hazel eyes staring into his own emerald. Dave watched the transaction with a curious gaze.

"James, this is Gin, I met her in town…" Harry did not hear the rest of his friend's statements. His jaw dropped and eyes bulged. In front of him was a twenty-year-old woman. Bright, glittering red hair fell past her elbows and sat with an elegance his hair would never accomplish. Harry had not seen this girl since she was sixteen. But she looked so familiar and so warming to his eyes.

She looked him up and down, still grinning that mischievous grin. "Nice to meet you, _James!"_

In front of him stood Ginny Weasley.

_**Disclaimer- **I do not own Harry Potter and never will_


	3. Friends Forever

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**Friends Forever**

The silence was penetrated by Dave clearing his throat. Harry shook his head and coughed loudly.

"Erm..." he stammered, voice catching in his throat. "...what did you say your name was?" With a hammering heart and sweaty brow, he awaited the answer, hoping against hope that she was not who he thought she was. She smiled radiantly and held out a well-manicured hand.

"Ginevra West. Why? Do I seem familiar to you? Wait! Now that I think about it, I think I've seen you somewhere before? Haven't I?" Smiling innocently she placed a fake look of thoughtfulness upon her face. Feeling highly uncomfortable now, Harry chanced a quick look at their confused witness. Dave Ream was watching them with interest. Harry could practically hear all the gears turning in his mind. Knowing that look all too well, Harry knew that he was trying to figure out the mystery between them.

"No, I don't think so. Its just, you reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago," Harry said, staring at her intensely, "but she went her own way, as did I." Ginny's smile dropped slightly but she immediately faked a new one, stepping closer to the now grinning Dave.

"Yes, I don't think I have seen you. I knew someone also but that person turned out to be someone I did not think they could be," a sickening jolt in his stomach and a small glare her way, Harry turned to his roommate.

"Hey, I think I'm going to go down town and grab something to eat. I'll be back later," Harry left the two in the entranceway after changing from his work clothes and grabbing a jacket. Passing into the hall outside, Harry cast one look back at the retreating redhead. Ginny was staring after him, a vacant look on her face but with eyes full of pain.

Once out in the cold, windy street, it finally hit him.

He couldn't breathe.

It was as if the air had dried up all the moisture in his throat and it was shrivelling up into itself. His past came flooding back. Engulfing his mind, body and soul. It was too much.

He had fled to get away from his past. To forget the horrors within. He hadn't wanted to but a life without Ron and Hermione wasn't a life worth living. He would rather spend his life without magic and with his two best friends than a life with magic void of them. But just when he thought he was alone and all alone for ever, Ginny turned up. If it hadn't been for her trade-mark red hair, he would not have known it was her. From a small young girl to a mature young lady, Ginny had grown up.

And found him.

It was too much of a coincidence that the day after finding the fake Galleon that a witch who was part of the said secret organization turns up. And with her the memories.

Or was it just a coincidence?

That Dave did meet her while on his lunch break and bring her home? Harry shook his head. That was just too coincidental. She had to have been the one last night, hiding behind the fruit stall watching him from the shadows. But why did she have to turn up now? And how did she find him? He hadn't been using magic so she could not have tracked him down that way.

Then how?

For the next hour Harry just wandered the streets. London had been quite busy lately. It was nearing Easter with only a couple of days to go. Shoppers were out, buying chocolate eggs and soft toy rabbits for their children and friends. The windows were filled with sale signs, their items prices being reduced for the holiday rush. Harry was in no hurry today, so he just strolled by himself, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice much of anything around him.

Crowds of people swarmed in cafés and small restaurants. The smells of freshly cooked croissants and steaming coffee met his senses as he passed one of the busy shops. Small children were everywhere. Running down the streets, screaming and playing with each other. Their parents hurried behind them, trying to hold their shopping while keeping an eye on their children.

Harry passed them, his sprits dropping with every footfall. Soon he entered a block-side garden. The trees were tall and coloured with an assortment of greens. Their leaves fluttered to the ground. Birds nestled in the branches, whistling tunes of happiness and joy. Harry gazed at them with dull eyes. Collapsing on a bench beneath a golden leaved tree, he thought.

_If only Ron and Hermione had understood why I did it then maybe I would not be here now. I would be with them somewhere, living together. Laughing about something Ron said or done. Groaning with Ron about Hermione's constant know-it-all behaviour. Smirking to himself at his friends hidden love. _

_Why didn't they understand? I did it for them! To save them!_

**_Maybe they didn't need saving?_**A voice said in the back of his mind.

_Of course they needed saving! If I hadn't kept them in the castle then they might have died!_

**_Yes, they _might_ have died_****_They _might_ have or they _might not_ have died_**The voice answered.

_That's true but it was better to be safe than sorry. If I had let them out to fight, I might have lost them! They would be dead now and I would never see them again!_

**_And that is so much different to now?_**

Harry growled indistinctively. He hated loosing to himself.

Harry started when a large black dog bounded passed his vision. Shaking his head forcefully, Harry closed his eyes forcefully. When he opened them he met another pair. Jumping back on the bench he realized the black canine had found its way to him and was staring hard at his face, tongue lolling out.

With heart pounding and body shaking, Harry reached out. The dog barked as his hand touched its wiry hair and bounded back away. Sighing miserably, Harry stood once more. He had to stop pretending. It was too hard to forget everything in his past and make a new life trying to cover it up. Dave would one day discover his secret and that would mean having to put a memory charm on him. And he did not think he could do that. Dave was his friend and to just wipe his memory when he slipped up was like lying. And Harry hated lying to his friends. He had done it ever since he'd met the muggle man but did not think he could place magic on him because of his own stupid fault.

No, if or when Dave found out his secret, Harry would tell him everything. Starting when it all had begun.

The trip back to the apartment took much quicker than the trip out. Soon he found himself rooted to the spot outside number thirteen on the third floor. His palms were sweaty and breathing fast. His heart was throbbing in his throat and mind racing back and forth. If Ginny was still inside he would have to confront her. But if she wasn't then he could live the way he always did. But what would that mean? Never to see another old friend again? To live in lies? But that was his life now. He chose it and that was how it was to stay.

Taking a deep breath, Harry entered the apartment.

Nothing looked changed inside. Everything was the same. The floor was bare and a dull whitish-grey. The walls were light green with white trimming. There was so far no sign of Ginny Weasley or Ginevra West as she called herself. It looked like it always did. With the empty cereal boxes sitting on the sink, signs of spilt coffee on the kitchen table, a few socks on the floor. The absence of the red-haired witch was somewhat satisfying. But his stomach dropped and Harry felt himself feeling more down than ever.

But there was also no sign of Dave or Dave's cat, Jinx. He was a pure black fur ball capable of latching himself on the backs of any who turn their backside to his face. The name of him shook Harry slightly when Dave told him of it. The muggle had said it suited him as most of the things the black cat jumped on either fell over or jumped on him back. Also Dave was quite suspicious. And the whole 'black cat passing' thing was like a big 'jinx' to him. So came the name of the feline.

"Jinx?" Harry called softly, looking under the nearest sofa. Jumping back when he thought a sock was the small cat. Harry had had enough experiences of sticking his head under a chair to find the cat latched around his neck. Wandering through the house, calling the cat to come out, Harry could not find it anywhere. The only place he hadn't looked was his room. But he knew that the cat could not have got into it as he had shut the door when he left.

Or thought he had.

Passing the hall, he spotted his bedroom door ajar. Feeling slightly skittish, Harry approached it slowly, every footfall sounding like a thunder clap to his ears. Something was in there he figured, pressing his ear to it without appearing in anyone's sight. Building up his great Gryffindor courage, he pushed the door wide open and stepped in. The figure turned around, grinning broadly holding Jinx the black cat tightly in her arms. Harry could hear him purring from the doorway.

"I thought you had ran away again!" Ginny said simply, flicking something gold up and down from her one free hand. Sighing loudly, Harry sat upon his bed and ran a hand through his long, messy hair. He looked up to find Ginny watching his movements with a blank expression and her mouth open slightly. She shut it when she spotted Harry staring at her and quickly fixed herself up.

"I see you found my coin?" she asked showing him the fake Galleon she had been flicking up and down.

"You deliberately dropped it?" Harry said without emotion. Ginny was a bit taken back at his monotone voice.

"Of course I did. I wanted to let you know I was coming, I was never rather fond of surprises..." She turned from him and picked up something from his bedside table." Oh, I have the other one as well. I found it a few months ago in Ron's old room."

"_James Black...Security Guard for NightWatchers_...you are quite photogenic, Mr Black," she said cheerily placing his identification badge back down. Harry was arguing with himself once more. He was trying to decide whether or not to ask Ginny why she was here or just ask her to leave. In the end he decided on the first.

"Ginny," he murmured, drawing her attention away from his Guard Uniform. She turned to face him. "What are you doing here?" She seemed to be struggling within her own mind. Harry could tell by her facial expressions. She herself sighed loudly, sitting beside him on the bed. Jinx was purring erratically now. He would stop every time he looked at Harry but would continue when Ginny scratched his ear.

"I'm not really sure..." Her hazel eyes were glassy and shined with unbidden tears. Harry was never really good with girls. Especially when they cried. Since leaving Hogwarts, Harry had had a total of three dates, all having been set up by Dave. The girls had all seemed into it, but Harry didn't feel right with any of them. In the end he had just given up.

A tear was now slipping down her cheek. Harry awkwardly patted her on the back but she flinched away from him and jumped up.

"Don't you touch me Harry Potter!" she yelled. Harry was startled by her outburst.

"Ginny...what's wrong?" he tried. She just glared at him, tears now falling freely down her face. "You! You're the one that's wrong, Harry!"

"What did I do?" he said loudly, his own temper raising. "What did I do but save you and Ron and Hermione?" Ginny stepped forward and slapped him squarely on the cheek. The crack had much more of an impact than the actual contact. His ears were throbbing from the noise and Harry's cheek was stinging while Ginny wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Harry touched the mark with a shaking finger.

"Ginny...?"

"Yes, Harry, you did save us! But then you left us! You left Ron and Hermione! You left me, Harry!" Ginny screamed. Her hair seemed to crackle with electricity.

"IT WASN'T MY FAULT!" Harry yelled, standing up making Jinx, who had been startled when Ginny jumped up, hiss and attack his leg. Harry kicked the cat off.

"How wasn't it Harry? Tell me who it was that made you run away? Who made you leave us?" Ginny placed her hands on her hips; her tears stopped falling, but the wet tracks still gleamed on her cheeks.

"It was...it was...you! When I defeated Voldemort, I thought everything would be better. I thought I would finally be able to have a normal life. A safe life! But then Ron and Hermione blew up at me! They weren't my friends anymore! They ditched me!" Harry held up his hand to stop Ginny from interrupting. "Do you know what its like to finally be free of the one thing that had plagued your whole life? Do you? But then when you're finally free, the two things that had saved you and made you keep fighting through all the years, don't want you? They decide that they don't want to be you friend? That you were not worth all the trouble they had been through all the years? That they didn't love you? Because that's what I felt when Hermione and Ron left me! They were my whole life, Ginny! They were the ones that kept me alive when Voldemort kept trying to kill me!

"That's why I did not want them to fight! I didn't want to loose them like I had lost my parents! Like I had lost Sirius! I didn't want to give Voldemort the pleasure of taking the two people I still loved more than I had loved everyone else! That's why I kept them and you in the castle away from the war! I couldn't loose you three! Voldemort had taken everyone else and was not going to let them take you! I know that Hermione and Ron wanted to fight with me like I would have wanted to fight with them! But they could have died! You could have died! And I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if one of you had died! I was better off having you alive and hating me that dead and never being able to see you again! I am not worth dying for!" Harry collapsed onto the bed, tears falling from his eyes.

Ginny had been crying from the beginning of his speech. Her breathing came in rasping sobs as the full impact hit her. She wasn't one to give up on a battle to sit back and watch. She was one of action. Just like Harry. But standing here, watching the legendary boy-who-lived dissolve into tears, was enough to take her down. She stumbled over to Harry and wrapped him in a hug. At first he tensed up at her touch but then relaxed into her embrace. He returned her comforting hug. They both just sat there, crying into each other's arms, knowing what had passed. Remembering those they lost. They were frightened and sad about the past but were terrified at what the future would bring.

What the two magical beings did not know was that Dave Ream was standing outside the ajar door, mouth open and coffee spilling soundlessly to the floor.

**Disclaimer- **I do not own Harry Potter and never will

_**Hey, people how was that one? Well, tell me what you think and I hope you like this new chapter! Oh yeah, and I hope some questions were answered.**_

_**DW**_


	4. Lost Without You

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**Lost Without You**

With tears all cried and feelings exposed, the two long-lost friends decided it was time to finally talk; with no yelling, no crying and especially no fighting. They were just going to talk face to face, calmly and like the friends they once were. Ginny began with what happened when Harry left. How Hermione and Ron acted and how the rest of world resurfaced.

"When you left the battle scene with Voldemort and Dumbledore both dead, we didn't know what to do. Hundreds of people died. It was unimaginable what damage was caused. Half the castle had to be rebuilt along with Hagrid's cabin. Most of the Forbidden Forest was replanted due to the fire burning it to the ground. Not many animals were left after the werewolves and Dementors raided the remaining forest. Heaps of people had been kissed by Dementors and now they are still in a Recovery Hospital outside of Scotland. It was so terrible stepping out from the castle to face that! I just broke down. When Ron and Hermione found you standing above the dead Tom Riddle, at first they were thankful that you survived, then proud that you finally defeated Voldemort. But then they were upset and angry.

"You didn't know what it was like being trapped in the castle, having no way of getting out helping to fight. We had no idea what was happening or who was dead or alive. Occasionally we had to hex off a few Death Eaters who were attempting to gain entrance through your charm. But we felt useless. We thought you were dead! And we had no way of helping you! It felt as if you thought we wouldn't stand a chance against Death Eaters and was weak. So weak you had to cage us away from the fighting!

"Then when we heard no more, we knew it was the end. No noise could be heard from out the great doors, it was just silence. We immediately thought you were dead. That Voldemort had killed you and everyone out there! It was so horrible not knowing and being kept out of it all!

"Then when the ward fell away and the bloody grounds were revealed, we knew either you or Voldemort were dead! At first we spotted Dumbledore lying at the feet of someone who was practically glowing with power, we didn't know what to do! Then we recognized you. You were the one standing over Dumbledore! It didn't look as though you had defeated the most feared man in the world! You looked so sad. It was as if the world had ended but you were the only one alive. There was a peace in your face we had never seen before! But then we remembered what you did to us and there was no way we could so easily forgive you! You could have died! And if we had been out there with you, we could have prevented it! That was why Ron and Hermione blew up! They knew how much you hated having to sit back and watch while others fight! That was how we felt!

"When you left without so much as a 'see you later' we knew how much it hurt you to have to leave. A week from that day, Albus Dumbledore was buried in the Graveyard of his ancestors. So many people showed up! There were thousands spread out between the graves, all crying. It was terrible! My family and I were right at the front! We could see the coffin being lowered into the ground. Fawkes was there as well, sitting on Aberforth Dumbledore's shoulder. They looked so much alike that I almost believed he was my headmaster..."

It was true. Harry had met the old man once before, in his sixth year. It turned out that the bartender in the _Hog's Head _was Dumbledore's brother, keeping an eye on the students in Hogsmeade.

"It was never the same again," continued Ginny, wiping a solitary tear from her eye. "With you, Voldemort and Dumbledore gone, we had nothing to do with ourselves. It was as if we had lost you too. We mourned almost everyday for the ones lost. When I returned to Hogwarts for my last year, I knew that the school would never be the same again. You could see it in everyone's eyes. The professor's looked older than I ever knew. Their eyes were dull and you could just tell how much Dumbledore was loved and missed by just looking in their faces.

"Hermione was first to go. It was only a few months after you left that she decided to make a new life for herself. She moved to France to teach Transfiguration for the Beauxbatons School. She was the youngest professor in history. We hear from her occasionally. She and Ron haven't talked since the beginning of last year. She seems to be going okay. She has made a really great life for herself."

Harry smiled sadly. "That's good..."

"And Ron has been working at the Ministry as Junior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. Dad thinks he is much better than Percy ever was. We still haven't heard from him either since Fudge vanished. Ron has been dating Luna Lovegood, the girl the same age as me, you remember her?" Harry nodded slowly. She was another member of the group he had led into the clutches of Death Eaters in his fifth year.

"Yeah, they've been together a little over twelve months. We believe she is just a substitute for Hermione to Ron. It broke his heart when Hermione left but not as much when he discovered that you weren't coming back. It broke all our hearts Harry. We knew you were only trying to keep us alive by locking us in. But it would have been better if you had just let us fight. That way if we died, it would have been fighting by your side. Instead of hiding out in the castle while others were killed fighting the way we should have been. You taught us well, Harry. And we would have helped you defeat Voldemort!" Harry seriously doubted this, but said nothing.

"We weren't the only ones broken hearted. Remus was so distraught. He stopped eating and became extremely ill. The werewolf transformations had really taken a toll on him and the loss of you only deepened the hole that had been dug when he lost your parents. Right now he is living by himself somewhere that we can't find. We have no way of contacting him and have no idea if he's even living!" This news brought even more guilt pressing down over Harry's heart.

Remus Lupin had been there for him when he thought all was lost. After the death of Sirius, they both had mourned together. They shared a common bond in loosing the ones they held close. James and Lily had been Harry's parents and Remus's best friends. When they were killed, it left them both lost and alone. Then Sirius died. This death reopened old wounds and left a gaping ravine in them both. But with many hours of mourning and talking through their pain, they were able to overcome the loss and remember all the good things about Sirius Black, godfather and best friend.

Just the thought of Remus in pain over Harry, was enough to make him mentally scream at himself for leaving him alone when all the man ever did was be like a second father. He had been so selfish when he ran. He didn't even think about whom he would leave behind. All he had thought about was loosing Ron and Hermione; his two best friends. He didn't think about loosing another father or breaking the bonds of a surrogate family like the Weasley's. Running had been the cowardly way of escaping even if he had just defeated the world's darkest wizard. Harry had run because he couldn't face living without Ron and Hermione. Now he saw how much of a fool he had been. If he had stayed he could have mended the breaks in their friendship and maybe created a better life with them in it. Now he was all alone in the middle of Muggle London living with a man who didn't know his true name.

Ginny sensed his inner battle. She clasped his hand in her own and squeezed it tightly. "Everything is okay now, Harry. I've found you and when we go back-!" Harry interrupted her.

"I'm not going back, Ginny..." Harry said firmly, letting her hand go. Pain and confusion flashed across her shining eyes.

"What? Why not?"

"I've made a new life for myself. Going back will only stir up old memories. Anyway, Ron and Hermione will never forgive me for what I did; I probably wouldn't if it was me in their place." Ginny grabbed his hand again and wouldn't let it go.

"No, Harry. You would forgive them because you're so much of a forgiving person. When I opened the Chamber I was so sure that you would shunt me away because I was so foolish. But when I realized you were the one who saved me down there and you held no signs of disgust or repulsion towards me, I knew you were different. And I know that if it was Ron or Hermione who had locked you in, that you would forgive them. And I know my brother and Hermione. Ron may take a while to come round due to his thickhead, but he and Hermione will forgive you in time. They know why you did it but never thought to ask you actually _why _you did it! They were so angry with you that when they finally realized what your intentions were, it was too late. You had vanished."

Harry knew that the youngest Weasley was right once more. But he could not or would not return to the one place which held so many foul memories that had plagued his sleep for years. Voldemort had mostly been the one to deliver the false visions in his head and the terrible nightmares that caused him to awake screaming. Voldemort was gone but the nightly fears remained. Some nights he would wake up, yelling and sweating. Dave would run in and ask what was wrong. Harry always passed them off as old memories from living at his relatives all those years. The man accepted these explanations. But a cloud of doubt always hung above Harry's head that his muggle room-mate knew more than what he let on.

The last years had been spent with such loneliness that no one, except maybe Sirius, could match. Spending the days wandering the streets or cooped up in his apartment, all Harry could do to keep his mind from walking the path to his past was take sleeping pills to make him sleep and forget, or work out so much in the gym down the street so his body was too weak to even register his thoughts in his own head. These intense work-out periods did much for his figure. Once a skinny scrawny boy, underweight and usually in the Hospital Wing; Harry was now standing tall and well built. He was still skinny and slightly underweight but he didn't look unhealthy anymore. Instead, he looked different to the boy of five years ago. Ginny had to have a good look at him to know it was truly Harry Potter. But his eyes had not changed. They had grown older and wiser but they still sparkled with an unnatural emerald shimmer.

"I don't know what to do, Ginny," Harry said, bowing his head. "When I thought my life was free of magic and everything that came with it, you showed up. During my time away I have tried to turn my life around, to forget my past. I didn't want to, but when I think about what I have done and what has happened, I don't think I can face it. Not alone, anyway. D-Dumbledore had always been the one I could look up to. Even though sometimes I absolutely hated his understanding and annoying knowledge, I still respected him. He would make me feel his equal. As if I wasn't a fifteen year old and he wasn't the most powerful man of our time. He made me feel just as much as he was, and maybe a little more.

"Even though he kept many things from me that I should have known, I understand now that he only did it to keep me safe. In a way he was like a grandfather to me.

"But when or if I go back, I won't know what to do! He had always been like a thought of comfort and safety. Everyone knew and loved him. If I go back, I'm afraid people will believe I killed him and blame me, even though I rather did. If I go back...I will be back where I started. Alone and without someone to keep me safe..." Ginny was crying again but drew him into a tight hug. The smell of honey met his senses. Her orange locks comforted him and made him feel home. They pulled away. She wiped her eyes and flicked a tear from Harry's face which had been rolling down to his chin.

"You won't be alone. You will have Ron and Hermione. You will have Remus and Tonks, who has been almost as distraught as Lupin trying to find you. You will have Luna and Neville. My parents, Fred, George, Bill and Charlie. And you will have me. We will not let you be alone, Harry. We will be there to care for you. We will keep you safe. After-all, you are family!" Harry grinned sadly. It was true. The Weasley's were as much as a family as anyone could be.

The day was passing. The sun was sinking into the far horizon. Ginny and Harry were watching it with certain peace. During the many hours the two reunited friends had talked. They had conversed about many things. Such as what they were planning to do when they finally sorted out their life. Or what had been happening in the world since the downfall of Voldemort. But right at the moment, the conversation had turned to Ron and Hermione. Once more.

"These last years have been terrible, Ginny," Harry began, the setting sun reflected in his tired emerald eyes. "Every night I dream about them or the final battle. Sometimes it's a false recount of what happened, sometimes it's the truth. I'm not sure which one is worse. They both are too frightening to think about. But what really scares me is living like a normal person. My whole life I have been overshadowed by Tom and all his followers that I didn't have time to be a normal person. Now, I have all the time in the world. And I don't know what to do with it, or myself! When I was still in Hogwarts, Ron and I had decided to become Aurors together. I never thought that bringing down Voldemort will split our friendship as well!

"Hogwarts had been the best days of my life. I spent the time there with a sense of never-ending. I thought everything would be the same or better when I finally defeated Voldemort. But it's not. It's actually a bit worse. When Tom was still alive and I had to face him during my sleep and most lonesome hours, I had Hermione and Ron to make it better, to make the scene of death fade. They were like my foundation. I relied on them to make everything better and I shouldn't have done that! I relied on them so much that when they finally were gone, I realized how much I loved them. How much they brought to me. And how much they kept me alive.

"Every day that passes I think about them. Every minute of every hour of everyday, I think about how we used to be friends. How Ron used to be so stupid and idiotic sometimes that it caused more pain than pleasure. I think about how smart Hermione was and probably still is. Correcting us when we didn't want corrections and growling at us when we did something illegal, even though she ended up doing it herself.

"I miss them so much, Ginny. I can't sleep anymore without taking sleeping pills. If I forget to take them, nightmares will overtake my mind. I will see Voldemort, not dead but alive. Very much alive. He would capture Hermione, Ron and even you. He tortures you, and then with one flash of his wand, you would be dead. Life taken by a bolt of green electricity. Then he turns to me. Eyes glowing with blood-red flames and a sickening hunger. He smiles and says: _"You thought you killed me, Harry. But I can't be killed. I am still alive and will kill you and everyone who has a spot in your heart._" Then he grins and points his wand at me. With Avada Kedavra I awake. Yelling, sweating and wishing against anything that Hermione and Ron where the ones to comfort me. But they're not. They're gone. Too far gone for me to grasp them. I still love them, and always will. But there's still a hole in my heart where they used to be."

Ginny smiled up at him, hazel eyes wide and filled with glistening tears. Just as a drop of salty water slipped down her cheek, she spoke.

"When we return to your true world and find Ron and Hermione, that hole will be filled. And when you awake from a vivid dream, they will be the ones to calm and soothe you. When you feel alone and drenched in dark, they will be there to give you company and light a match. And when you wish you were somewhere else and hope for someone to love you, we will come and be that different place and love you. Just like we used to. And just like I love you now."

…………………………..

_**Disclaimer- **I don't own Harry Potter and never will!_

**_Hey all! Well, there's a look at how everyone felt when Harry left, why Harry left and how the others coped. Also, here is a look at the new Ginny. She has matured and become a lot more inspirational. In many ways! Please tell me what you think and that will be great put in a review! And this chapter is longer, can you tell? The next one should be longer still. Also, soon I will write two chapters on two others people's points of view. Just to give a better view on what has been happening and what they felt and feel, about Harry! Enjoy and until next time!_**

**_DW_**


	5. Push

**Push**

Night had drawn its shadowy curtains over the landscape of buildings, supermarkets and a lonely Town Square. No birds dared disturb the dead silence. Crickets, toads and dogs retained from speaking into the night. It was as if, at once the dark had swept in, no creature was brave enough to face the stars and moon and challenge them when shadows licked at their feet. Only a solitary owl sat perched on a high branch, gazing wisely with amber eyes to a single form alone above it. It hooted one small vocal. The dark swallowed it immediately. The person shifted, rearranging themselves to a more comfortable position.

Incoherent thoughts had been rambling through Harry's mind all evening. With Dave's sudden appearance, Harry and Ginny had to cut their long-awaited conversation short. The muggle man had only cast one curious glance at the two as they parted when he entered and went separate ways. Even though Harry knew Dave Ream had no way of knowing what they had been talking about, a suspicion still hung about the 'supposed' muggle man.

Harry's room-mate and Ginevra 'West' were sitting inside by the heater, chatting about going into town the following day for lunch. Harry could hear their conversation from his seat on the balcony. He did not know how Ginny could so easily tune into another identity when just before the two had shared a handful of personal memories. But he supposed it was for the best. Dave did not need to know anymore than a muggle should, after all.

A sudden end to their constant chatter drew Harry's immediate attention. Turning slowly, he jumped when the form of Dave met his vision. The man had a nasty habit of appearing and looming in doorways, and after figuring out that Harry didn't like it very much, Dave did it much more. It wasn't the fact that seeing someone half-shrouded standing in a doorway scared him, it was just it brought back even more unwanted memories. Of old acquaintances.

"I've told you not to do that," grumbled Harry, turning back to look at the star strewn sky. The moon was full and a deep amber. Harry wondered if Remus Lupin was curled up somewhere, sleeping as a werewolf beside a crackling fire. "More like alone, cold and whimpering at the moon..." Harry murmured softly, lost in the large yellow mass of planetary rock.

"Who's alone, cold and whimpering at the moon?" Harry snapped his head around to Dave who was watching him with confusion. Sighing Harry turned back in the opposite direction. "My old dog..." he said with an air of finality. But Dave did not get the hint.

"Oh, you have a dog? What's its name?" Harry watched the owl with sudden curiosity. Usually owls were message-carriers in the Wizarding world. He never usually saw them anymore, since leaving the magical realm. Harry got lost in his thoughts once more while Dave watched him closely with a problem solving look on his face.

"Me and Gin are just going down stairs to grab a few bites, want to come?" Harry shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think I will, thanks anyway."

"Your loss, mate. I'm not sure when we'll be back, but don't wait up!" the retreating footsteps of the man were heard then a added statement. "Oh, and she may be staying the night, that okay with you?" Harry turned around to see the two standing illuminated by the soft flickering light in the kitchen. Ginny was smiling falsely, pretending to be happy. But Harry could see in her eyes the pain and frustration. Sighing inwardly, Harry also planted a fake smirk on his face.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll probably be up when you get in anyway. See you later." Harry watched them gather their things and step into the hallway. Just before Dave closed the door, Ginny said, "Good night, James..." Before she was gone.

Harry was still sitting upon the balcony, a cold air whipping about his form. But bright emerald eyes were not open wide in deep thought. They were closed and flickering due to an apparent dream taking place beneath his lids. A small groan escaped his closed mouth and he turned to an alternate position on the uncomfortable, stiff lounge chair placed on the ledge of their third storey apartment building.

The moon was large and like a magnificent crystal ball, centered in the night sky. Stars were sprinkled like sparks in an endless dark. There to lay an eternity. To watch war after war plague the world below. Watching life being taken and life being born. To forever sit and watch, never to descend from the heavens and interact with the human beings below. They had already sat for millions of years and would twinkle brightly for endless more lifetimes.

A quick streak and a tail of sparkling gas shot across the dark sky for a fleeting moment below fading out as quickly as it came. The shooting star was a source of muggle wish making, their little minds hoping against hope that their wildest dreams would come true by placing them into the hands of a flying ball of gas. This was a fairly pitiful way of trying to get something to happen or something you want. Many who wished upon the shooting spark believed that it was the reason that their dream came true. But the reason why their wish came true was because they worked for it. They struggled and overcame the obstacles in the way of getting what they wanted and they achieved it. But some who wished upon the star tailed rock that shot across their vision, had already tried everything. Had already struggled and pushed at the barriers and hoped they would move away. But their attempts had been lost. They wished upon the shooting star as their last hope at igniting the candle in the wind and seeing the unbelievable.

Down in the dark, damp street below Ginny Weasley had spotted the shooting star and wished upon its fiery surface. She hoped her wish had been heard above all others. She hoped it was strong enough that it could carry thousands of miles and penetrate the molten rock and dig into the depth of the fleeting star and maybe, just maybe, sink into its red hot core and strike a powerful magic that would make her wish come true and all her dreams be realized. It was a long shot. Longer than the world itself.

Three million miles away a star exploded. It sent a rain of showering sparks down to the world below. The two strolling beings looked up in surprise. A dark haired man awoke with a start, three floors above the couple and watched the tiny sparks fall with curiosity. Down below, Dave Ream laughed at the blank look on Ginevra West's face.

"It was just a comet colliding with another. They do that sometimes, nothing to be afraid of!" But Ginny was not afraid. She was terrified. What had caused the very star she had just placed a wish on, to explode before their very eyes? The question was left wavering in her mind as she caught the sight of a lone figure standing straight above them. From here, he didn't look like the boy she had known for almost seven years. But in her heart, she knew it was Harry Potter. The Boy-who-lived. He was just a little lost at the moment. And she was determined to find him and take him home. If it was the last thing she did.

The last of the sparkling fragments of star vanished before entering the earth's atmosphere. Harry watched with an anxious eye, wondering why he had just dreamt of a hidden face wishing upon a shooting star only to awake to find a rain of star dust falling from the heavens.

The question was left wavering as a noise drew his attention to the front hall. Standing quickly and running a hand nervously through his hair, Harry watched the front door open and a couple slink inside. Even from the lone light in the kitchen, Ginny Weasley's hair was glittering wildly. Like ribbons of electricity weaving through the bright orange locks. Harry stood entranced as the two neared. He shook himself from his stupor before they could notice where his attention had laid.

Ginny looked mildly pale and kept grasping the edge of her coat. Dave, however, was grinning broadly.

"James, your up late for a Saturday night!" the muggle man said, filling the kettle and putting it on the boil. Running a hand through his hair once more, Harry missed the look he got form the small red-head.

"Yeah, well you know how I can't get to sleep so easily. And I've had a lot on my mind lately, with patrolling and stuff...why are you home so early? I didn't think you would be home for another couple of hours?" Dave looked at him strangely.

"Mate, its almost one o'clock in the morning. We have been out for more than four hours!" Harry looked at him disbelieving. Glancing at his watch told him what Dave said was true. There were only a few minutes to go before the first hour struck.

"Oh, well I must have dozed off...i think I might just have a cup of tea then head to bed. I am still quite tired..." he faked a yawn and glanced innocently at Ginny. But the girl's attention was out the window and staring at the inky darkness of the sky. With hazel eyes wide and glittering, she looked so peaceful wrapped in the wooly trench coat and jeans. It didn't seem like this was the younger sister of Harry's 'best friend' who had fancied him in his second year and even wrote him a Valentine poem. Just the memory of that occasion brought waves of embarrassment and mournful sadness.

A cup of steaming tea was placed in his hands, pushing the old memories away and the smell of a familiar drink. Dave placed an identical cup into Ginny's hands then leaned in and whispered something into her ear. He said it so softly Harry heard nothing but only noticed the pink tinge creping up the girls cheeks. When the muggle man walked back into the dimly lit kitchen, Harry spotted the, somewhat, sour face Ginny was left with. Turning back out into the cool air of the night, Harry cast his gaze once more into the heavens.

Thousands of sparkling gems met him. An infinite number of stars and countless souls abided up there. All watching at this moment and forever gazing at the lives of the humans below. Harry wished it was as easy as watching the world pass by. Being the one to sit on the side-lines and view the lives of others. But that had never been the case. He had been the one being watched. He was always in the spotlight.

But not alone. Ron and Hermione had been there with him the whole time. Standing beside him just outside the light but with him none the less. But now...but now what? They were still alive out there living their own lives. While he was sitting here, alone and in the dark brooding on previous events. Harry sighed, long and hard. He didn't know how many times he had conversed with himself about that subject. How his life had turned around so horribly. When he was younger, he would have done anything to have been released from Voldemort and left alone. And now he had got what he wanted. And it was so strange how, not that he was by himself with Voldemort gone, that he wished he wasn't alone and back in the world where he belonged.

Swallowing the remainder of the once warm drink, Harry returned to the semi-darkness of his five year home and shut the door behind him. Locking out the night air and the peeping eyes of those condemned to the skies. Wishing goodnight to Dave Ream and straining a smile at Ginny, Harry entered the privacy of his room and shut out more gazing eyes. The room was a mess, but that didn't bother Harry at the moment. Discarding his clothes and pulling on a pair of warm pants, he sank into the centre of his mattress. Visions old and new, lost and found flashed briefly before his tired emerald eyes before two lids closed and hid them from the shadows.

Dreaming of a once in a lifetime friendship that had passed, and of a world that he once had escaped from. Harry unconsciously came to a decision. A smile tugged at his lips as sleep engulfed his aching body.

Morning light spilled in through the parted curtain. It lit the messy dark hair of Harry Potter and the closed lids covering his brilliant green eyes. Only a slight shift in his position made him aware of the creak of the bedroom door and the quiet 'click' of its closing. The figure sat upon the floor, head on her knees, back against the wooden door. There she sat until the light touched her toes and Harry awoke with a gentle yawn.

His eyes glazed at the sudden burst of morning sunshine but adjusted enough for him to see the sleeping form of Ginny Weasley on the floor. Her orange locks framed a peaceful face and two shaded eyes. She was shifting roughly, groaning at some vision being played in her mind. She murmured an almost incoherent sentence. But Harry caught it none-the-less.

"Please, don't leave me..." Creeping swiftly from his bed, Harry stepped over to her. Scooping her up into his arms, she felt so light and fragile beneath his strong grip. But he moved with graceful presence. She moaned when he placed her on the surface of his bed and smiled when the covers where pulled up to her chin. Harry chuckled lightly, stepping back quietly and moving from the room. Dave being an early riser, was already seated at the kitchen table, sipping some coffee while reading the daily newspaper.

He lifted his head when Harry sat opposite him and smiled slyly.

"Hmm...lets see? In the early hours of this morning, you had a visitor. She went in with a purpose that's hidden from me. And now you come from the same room, without her. Now, me being an awfully considerate man, will not take into effect the fact that I was the one to bring Gin here and she was meant to be my guest for last evening. And she was, for the most part. Yesterday, you two only just met. Or so it seems. I felt something when you two met eye to eye but passed it off because we both know that she is quite attractive and one can't say you are ugly. But when I happened to come home for lunch yesterday afternoon, I overheard, quite accidentally I might add, a conversation that could not have taken place between two people who had only known each other for a few hours. And this mornings performance only strengthens my suspicions.

"How do you two know each other and why do you pretend not to know the other?"

By this time Harry was sitting stunned and out of words to say. He knew Dave was quite bright and clever, but didn't think he was one to eavesdrop on other's conversations. The man was staring hardly at him with two deep brown eyes that penetrated into his own. If Harry didn't know any better he'd think Dave was trying to break into his mind. But after lessons upon lessons of Occlumency and Legiliumcy Training, Harry's mind was impossible to read to any other than himself. But that mere fact was not enough to sustain his fear that Dave was not a muggle. But why had he kept quiet all these years if he was a wizard himself? Why would he have pretended to only know Harry as James Black if he was not a muggle? There was only one thing left that explained everything. Dave was a muggle. And only due to his detective behavior and clever attitude was he able to link Ginny and Harry together as past friends.

Harry sighed once more for the last time. "Gin and I used to know each other. We lived in the same neighborhood and were quite good friends up till graduation. She went to a private school while I went to St Brutus's. But because of a few things I'd rather not explain at the moment, we weren't friends anymore. We went our separate ways in the world. I ended up here and thought I'd never see her again. That was until now. With her just showing up out of the blue just made old memories stir up. That's why I haven't been myself lately." Harry hoped this was a good enough explanation for Dave. The man was gazing at him curiously, his eyes like two darts.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all!" Dave grinned at his answer and gulped down the rest of his coffee.

"I'm glad that's the only reason. There's just one thing I would like to know. Who are Voldemort and Tom Riddle?" Harry choked on the juice he was drinking. The silence was thick and Harry felt amused for some reason. This muggle could so easily say Voldemort's name without so much as a twitch while Ron Weasley, almost ten years ago would have died with fright. Harry shook his head at the curious man and grinned lopsidedly.

"Tom Riddle and Voldemort are one and the same. It was someone who lets say, caused Gin and I to not be friends anymore. He split us and a few other people up. No one rally liked him. He was a bad spot in my life. But he vanished after graduation, before I came here." Dave nodded and smiled.

"Okay, I just thought he was like Gin's old boyfriend or something and he did something back then to her. Well, I'm going to go down to the market and by some breakfast for Gin. Do you want anything?" At the shake of Harry's head, Dave gabbed his wallet off the fridge and strolled from the apartment. The air surrounding Harry was quite strange. He couldn't believe he had just had a conversation to Dave about Voldemort. Smiling wryly, he stood up from the table.

The door creaked slightly when he pushed it open. Harry backed in and hissed when it creaked loudly. He could' hear Ginny awake so he shut it softly. When he turned around the red-head was sitting up and smiling sleepily at him.

"Morning, Harry..." she yawned. Harry grinned at her and sat down at his desk chair.

"Good Morning, Ginny. Have a nice sleep?" She grinned beautifully up at him and ran a hand through her fiery mane. "Sure did!"

"That's good, considering it was in my bed..." She smiled at him and scratched her nose.

"Well, today I'm going back. Mum's expecting me around three, and I have to go, with or without you. It would be better with you, considering things at the moment. Please come back Harry, please? Harry watched her jump from the bed and shut his eyes tightly when he noticed she was only wearing one of Dave's long business shirts. He heard her sigh and the rustling of covers before opening his lids once more. Ginny was back in the bed, her face tinged red the same as her hair.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but Harry held up a hand to stop her and stood quickly.

"I've thought about it Ginny, I've thought about it a lot. And if I live another year without seeing someone I love again, I will probably die. So, when you go back today, so will I." There was just a flash of red and Harry was being smothered by a mane of orange and the comforting smell of home. They didn't here, in their moment of compassion, the door open and Dave stroll in holding a buttery croissant and smiling broadly. His eyes widened at the sight of the two before him. There was James Black, in only a pair of pants and Ginevra West, in his one good work shirt, holding each other in the middle of the room.

"Are you sure you two are only friends?"

**_Hey all! This one is longer than all the others! Yay! Next chapter will be the perspective of another. It will be as I write with Harry except it won't be Harry, if that makes sense? So, there was a passionate moment with Ginny and the touching half-naked scene. It was not meant to seem in any way romantic, if it came across that way. It was just a moment of friendship that turned a bit...erm...physical? Anyhow, next chapter up soon I hope! Please take time to review as I love getting feedback and all that! Ta!_**

_**DW**_


	6. Enough

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**Enough**

France was quite cold this time of year. An icy frost lay over the roads and the windows were caked in a thick ice. Tires squealed when they braked too suddenly, the cars sliding a few dangerous feet. Passers-by were cloaked and wrapped in warm clothes, cheeks rosy from the chilly winds.

A wide stream was frozen over. A few small children were ice-skating over the frozen surface. Their screams of joy carried on the breeze. A young woman passed them and smiled despite the cold. Her thick brown her was pulled back in a messy ponytail and cascaded down her back in waves. A long trench coat was soaked on the outside but kept her inner clothing clean and warm. A book was clutched in one arm and the other was holding a leather case. Her walk was quick and determined, her step only stopping when a pair of brown eyes scanned the titles of a shelf of second hand books. Continuing on her way, Hermione Granger made it all the way to her apartment block.

Her room was on the second floor, Hermione being not too fond of heights. When she reached number thirteen, she entered after unlocking the door with an old brass key. Even though she shared the apartment with another, the room managed to be spotlessly clean and perfectly arranged. Everything was placed according to Hermione's liking, that meaning a strict order had to be managed. Nothing was to be left on the ground or re-arranged.

Hermione placed her bag on the table beside the door, took off her coat, and hung it on the hook. She shook the tiny flakes of snow from the chestnut locks upon her head and yawned, strolling into the small Living Room. When she entered the kitchen, a crackling fire was left in the grate behind her.

After fixing herself a nice bowl of chicken soup, Hermione sank down in one of the plush armchairs in the Living Room and pulled out her book. Life had been pretty ordinary for Hermione Granger these last few years. After graduating from Hogwarts and spending a year or two browsing around for a good job to settle down in, she was offered the position of Transfiguration professor at Beauxbatons. So she moved to Lyon in France and journeyed to Beauxbatons every August thirty-first to prepare lessons. It was only a quick apparation trip to the Pyrenees mountain range where she landed in the small Wizarding village of Beauxhill just outside the town of Montrejeau. There she caught one of the flying carriages to the great palace's front doors. The palace was just as beautiful as Fleur Delacour had said. With brilliant marble staircases and ice sculptures at Christmas. It was almost as lovely as Hogwarts.

Almost.

The door creaking open drew Hermione's attention from her book about a man and woman who fell in love then discovered that the girl had leukaemia and had only a year to live. She cast her dark eyes to the girl entering her apartment and smiled. It was her roommate, Pru Davies. Pru was an American, so there was no need to speak French between them. She had long golden brown hair and stunningly bright blue eyes. She had attended the Salem Academy for magical people in America. They were the same age and enjoyed most of the same things.

"Hey, Hermione," said the witch brushing snow flakes from her long hair. Placing her book down Hermione greeted her. "Hi, Pru. How was your day at the shop?' Pru Davies worked at the local Wizarding radio station. It was called: _Pru's True Hour_. It was basically a light psychic radio station for the magical. Pru had a small talent in Divination and could occasionally prophesize about the future. But only sometimes. She would mostly only joke about making predictions, like the next one.

"_I predict a dark stranger will make his appearance when the hour strikes eight this evening. He will not be alone but will bring a form from your past and with him memories of old!" _Hermione chuckled and threw a cushion at her. The two girls laughed heartily. When the two had first met, they immediately bonded and got along. Both quite clever and following the same beliefs about the 'improper' imprisonment of house-elves. But Pru enjoyed partying as well as reading. And her job went against Hermione's view of magic.

"You do know that Divination isn't really magic. It's just a condition of the brain that makes you capable of seeing a fraction into the future, which is highly inappropriate. Seeing what's coming before it happens is just scary. What if you see yourself die then try to prevent it? It will throw the whole balance of life awry!" Hermione said. Pru rolled her eyes sitting opposite her friend and pulling out an extremely thick novel.

"I've lost count of how many times of heard that from you, Hermi!" the girl laughed at the truly horrified expression on Hermione's face. "And I can't remember how many times I've told you NOT to call me 'Hermi'!" Pru snorted and that was the last noise from the two witches as they both lost themselves in the books.

An hour passed by without much excitement. Pru was still wrapped up in her two-thousand page novel when Hermione finished hers. Over the passed few years, the clever witch had read more books than she thought possible. All her old school books had been re-read many times. The bookcase in her room was completely covered with muggle stories, encyclopaedias, reference books, magic textbooks on Transfiguration, the Dark Arts, Potions, Charms, Astronomy. Any book you could name, Hermione had it. Since her leave from Britain, all she did was read and go to work. Her free time was spent in the pages of a love novel or reading up on a new theory with Transfiguration. Reading was the only way for her to stop thinking about the passed. It was her own way of forgetting. But even books run out.

"I'm just going to have a look at that second hand book store again, okay?" Hermione said. A small groan from her roommate was the only answer. A small smile flickered over Hermione's lips before she grabbed her bag and exited the apartment. The cold wind was the first thing that met her. She immediately pulled her cloak tighter to her body and wrapped her scarf more securely around her neck. 'Pages' was the name of the second hand muggle book store a block from Hermione's apartment. It was in this store that Hermione bought most of her time-passing items. The bookshop owner was an overly know-it-all old woman who was obsessed with the lives of her customers. Her name was Mrs. Ghats and her late husband had owned the convenience store at the corner. When he passed on, Mrs Ghats had became even more possessive of her books and only let the most trusted people take them from her.

When Hermione entered the small, cramped store, the familiar smell of musty old books met her senses. It seemed as if there was no room at all to move inside. But if you looked closely you could find a thin track leading around certain shelves. Hermione followed an incredibly small trail between two looming walls of encyclopaedias. Up two steps and along another wall of animal books, brought her to the section about romance and suspenseful drama. She was only browsing for a few minutes when Mrs Ghats appeared suddenly beside her.

Hermione jumped when she spoke in her wispy, soft voice.

"Back again, dear?" Hermione dropped a book by Linda Newcast in a start. The old woman glared at her briefly at her carelessness before placing a sickening smile on her cracked lips. Hermione strained a smile.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Ghats. Yes, I finished that book by Claudia Finch. It was a really sad ending. How that girl dies in her boyfriends arms just before his birthday. I was wondering if you had anymore like them?" The old wench looked at the shelf a few seconds, fingering the spines of an assortment of books before she pulled at a small skinny tomb.

"This one is about two best friends who grow up together before something happens to one of them and they split up…"

"I've read it!" Hermione immediately answered. The plot of that book sounded a bit too familiar for her liking. The face of a black haired boy flashed in her mind. She shook her head, trying to rid the picture of one lost old friend…

The main reason Hermione lost herself in the books was to not think. To forget her old life. And the people that came with it. Her books allowed her that. With the stories of other lives and other people doing things, she only dreamt of. In the books, she could forget. Forget Harry Potter. Forget Ron Weasley. Just forget everything. When she read, she even forgot her own name. It was a freedom that only could be found in the pages of a book. And she treasured that feeling like no other. In her school days, her two best friends did not understand why she read all the time. Why she endlessly studied. It was because she was able to escape in the pages of a novel. Or be free while reading up on some new Potion or spell. But back then, she only wanted to be free of schoolwork and the horrors of Voldemort and the war. She never wanted to forget the friendship she loved so much. Every minute she read or studied, she thought of Harry. She thought of Ron. They used to be her boys. Her brothers. Ron as the comical clown of the trio. Always smiling and joking. He could be an idiot all his life but he could also be a hero when the time came. Harry was the saviour. Her knight in shining armour. Whenever danger found them, he was the one to save her.

But now when she read, she read to forget about them. Not about school, because that was over. But about her funny clown and brilliant hero. They made her remember what it was like when Voldemort reined. It made her remember that dreadful day when the headmaster informed her of her mother's death. It had been the cause of Death Eaters. They attacked their house when she had been in school. Her father was out at the time and when he returned to the family home, he found it in flames and the body of her mother sprawled on the front lawn. Naturally, he called the muggle police. But it wasn't until an Auror got wind of the disaster that the true nature of the attack was shown. When the wizards arrived at the scene, they found a great green skull floating in the sky above the home. Hermione had been told that day. It had been the worst of her life. Because she lost her mother and because she lost Harry.

When Harry heard the news, he withdrew from everyone. It had been in Seventh year, at the beginning. Of course, Harry blamed himself. If Hermione had not been friends with him, then her mother would be still alive. As the weeks passed, he slowly became a bit more like himself. But you could see it in his eyes that it still affected him greatly. In every action he made and speech he made. You could hear the pain surfacing. From that point on he took more care in class. His grades shot up, not that he cared. He only wanted to become stronger. Hermione knew he had to defeat Voldemort and only he was capable of taking down the monster. He had not shared the secret of the lost prophecy but Hermione had figured it had said something of that nature. By the end of seventh year, Harry was much smarter, stronger and powerful a person than she could ever be.

And when that day came when Voldemort struck the school with his dark forces, Harry was ready. But so were she and Ron. Hermione wanted to fight by Harry's side. To help him overcome his destiny. To reach it and destroy Voldemort. But when she discovered Harry's Barrier Spell she did everything in her power to break it. But it was too strong. It made her feel useless and defenceless. If she couldn't even break through a simple Force-Field Charm, than how could she stand up against hundreds of death eaters? How could she face Voldemort and stare into hose merciless red eyes? And how many times had Harry done it? He had defeated him more five times and lived to tell the tale.

When she watched her best friend, brother and guardian walk into the battle of Hell, she lost her will to live. It seemed all hope was lost. He made her feel small and useless. Ron was the only thing keeping her alive. Inside the castle and through the walls, you could hear every spell fired. You could hear every scream. And you didn't know whether it was from someone you knew or a death eater. It was terrible. She tried everything to escape and help fight. She tried blasting a whole in the wall or breaking through a window, but Harry's spell was meant to keep people from entering or exiting the castle. And that's what it did. Occasionally, a death eater would try to break in. You could hear their futile attempts go wasted.

And when the battle was over, she thought it had been Harry who died. Her body went cold when she looked out upon the massacre on the grounds of Hogwarts. There were bodies everywhere. Of students, teachers, Aurors and magical creatures. She and Ron walked out together the first years in their shadows. All were crying. Their cheeks red and raw from the many tears spilt over ones who fought and died. Brothers who lay dead at their feet. Sisters missing under the thousands of lost souls. Hermione and Ron walked out together, she crying and Ron holding back the tears threatening to spill. They searched for their brave friend. And they found him. Harry looked so powerful and frightening standing over the body of Dumbledore, and the form of Tom Riddle lying dead behind him. When Hermione saw the lifeless face of the worlds idle, she broke down.

Every angry thought she had been thinking of while being stuck in the castle, erupted forth. Every sad thought, every angry, scared and furious word spilt out as she yelled them at Harry. And he just stood there. That's what had torn her most afterwards. How he just stood there, staring at her with his brilliant green eyes. And how they were so sad. It was as if he just heard Sirius was dead again. He looked so broken and that tore her to pieces. But still she screamed at him while he stood there, listening and not saying anything. Then Ron had his go and Harry's eyes grew dull and face still blank. She watched him, her own heart pounding and tears streaming. He was covered in blood. His own and others just covered him. His robes were ripped and skin scratched and scorched. His arm looked broken but still he clamped his wand. And when Ron had finished yelling his anger out, Harry bowed his head and looked at the form of his headmaster of seven years and hero of old.

And when he looked up, her heart dropped. He was so weak and broken, torn in more places in one. Hermione watched one single tear escape and run down his filthy cheek. It left a single streak of clean through the dirt and blood. And with his heartbroken, Hermione heard two words that haunted her soul.

"I'm sorry…" Then he was gone. Just the memory of a boy who saved the word and the wreckage of one of the most prestige schools in all Britain. Life had been lost. Souls missing. Hearts broken. They all went their own ways after that. And it still broke Hermione down to this day just thinking about the friendship she ruined and the brother she lost.

A hand on her shoulder brought her from her stupor.

"Ms. Granger?" Hermione shook her head and wiped the tear away that had been running down her cheek. "Are you alright, dear?" Hermione strained a smile.

"Yes, I'm fine just not feeling too well. I might go home," the old book keeper looked at her through a pair of overly-large spectacles and creased her forehead.

"Yes, you do look a little under the weather. Did you still want another book?" Hermione thought for a moment before grabbing the small skinny tomb from Mrs. Ghats' hand. "When I think about it, I haven't read this book!"

It was seven thirty that evening and Hermione and her room-mate were about to start their dinner. Hermione had been wrapped up in her book named: Once in a Lifetime, all afternoon. She found it very heart wrenching. The characters were nothing like herself or Ron and Harry, but their friendship matched. Just reading it brought back memories she'd rather forget. It made tears spill more than once that day.

"I can't believe you finished that book about that couple already," said Pru chewing on a lemon chicken strip. Hermione looked up from her own salad and smiled. "I'm still reading that mystery book and I started before you began the other book!"

"Well it was a great read. Very romantic but sad. I like those kinds of books, it just makes me feel…alive!" Pru snorted uncharacteristically.

"No, its just because your own love life is non-existent!" laughed Pru, ducking a carrot Hermione flung across at her.

"I do so have a love life, just not at the moment!"

"Sure! Then name the last person you dated?" Pru declared looking triumphant. Hermione scrunched up her face in thought before answering.

"Viktor," she said eyes shining. Pru laughed again. "Hermione, that was two years ago!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "It was not that long ago…was it?" Pru chuckled, throwing the carrot back and hitting Hermione on the nose. She scoffed while Pru laughed harder. Hermione wiped the remains of the vegetable from her face and stood just as the doorbell rang. Pru stopped laughing and grinned.

"Ooh…there's your dark stranger now!" Hermione waved her away, laughing none-the-less. But when she opened the door and saw the figure standing there, she lost all thought. The man before her was the face she dreamt of every night. He was so familiar yet so different.

"Harry…?"

………………………………

**  
**

**_Hey all this is the first POV of another chapter. This time it was in Hermione's. I hope I got her personality right. I figured she was one never to give and to hold her head high and move on. But even people like that break down sometimes. So, please review and there will be another couple of chapters before another's POV. Until next time faithful readers! Thank you! And that was a longer chapter!_**

_**DW**_


	7. Anytime You Need a Friend

**Anytime You Need a Friend**

"Harry...?" The silence was thick with a mixture of fear, nervousness and excitement. Harry was just standing there. Body frozen. With his heart pounding as the memories stopped flooding his mind and a pair of green eyes viewed a friend he had not laid an eye on in over five years. Hermione looked great. Her hair was straighter and sleeker, and her face was full but showed signs of lack of sleep. Harry noticed that her eyes were tired and shown with an uncertainty. She was just staring at him with her large brown eyes, mouth slightly open and her hand still clutching the door knob. Harry could hear a radio going inside the apartment and see another girl looking at him. Ginny was standing just behind in the hall, he could see the red of her hair from the corner of his eye.

"Hermione...?" With one word spoken from the both of them, it seemed like they were strangers meeting for the first time. Hermione looked the same as the clever witch from his schooling years. Even from this point he could see a small book case in a corner and a novel lying open on an armchair.

As they both stood there, a tear ran down Hermione's face. The girl from the apartment had left the table inside and was now standing beside Hermione. She looked no older than Harry himself and was quite attractive. At this point, he did not know if she was magical or muggle, so he quickly pulled his shirt down over his belt and wand. This action did not go unnoticed by the girl. She met his eye and smirked.

"I found your wand the moment Hermione opened the door. So, who are you?" Harry glanced at Ginny who was humming the tune to the Chudley Cannons. He opened his mouth to answer but Hermione did it for him.

"He-he is Harry..." she choked. She must have finally noticed she was crying because she swiftly wiped the tears away. The other witch raised her eyebrows.

"Harry? That wouldn't be Harry Potter would it? _The _Harry Potter who defeated the most feared dark wizard of our time at only seventeen? _The_ Harry Potter who Hermione was best friends with up until the day when he mysteriously disappeared? _The_ same Harry Potter who Hermione has nightmares about?" Harry stepped back, standing on Ginny' toe by accident. The red-head yelped with pain and swatted his arm. He murmured an apology then turned his face back to Hermione's.

"Nightmares?" Harry said. Anger was beginning to simmer inside him. If Hermione was having nightmares about him then him coming here was a mistake. It would only bring more fear into her if she was afraid of him for some reason. Hermione seemed to shake herself from a reverie as her eyes lost the shine and began to brim with confusion.

"Why are you here?" she said blankly. Harry sighed.

"Ginny brought me here. She found me in London and demanded I came back..." Harry looked deeply into her eyes. "That, and I miss you." Hermione seemed to visibly deflate. She stepped back from the door and let them in. Once Ginny followed Harry into the room, Harry noticed the other girl's eyes still planted on him. It made him feel uncomfortable. He hadn't been stared at like that since he left the Wizarding world so many years ago. And the feeling of being a nobody went well with him.

"Who are you exactly?" Harry asked feeling no sense of being rude. After-all, she was the one staring endlessly at him. The witch extended a hand and grinned broadly.

"Prudice Jacqueline Diamond Davies. So great to meet you!" Harry shook her hand with less eagerness than she showed. "Harry Potter. Like-wise," Instead, he turned his attention back to Hermione and Ginny. The two girls were embracing sisterly. Both their faces were shining with tear tracks.

"Its been too long..." Hermione murmured into Ginny' shoulder. "I know..." the red-head answered. When they parted, they both laid their eyes on Harry, joining the blue gaze of Pru Davies. Feeling like he was under a microscope, Harry found a seat at the table and sat down. Two plates of salad and chicken sat half-eaten opposite him. A song was playing on the radio. It sounder familiar but Harry couldn't put his finger on it. Hermione seemed to read his mind.

"This was one of the songs that the Weird Sisters sang at the Yule Ball in fourth year," she answered sitting down beside him and began toying with the lettuce. He didn't know what to say. Over the years he almost forgot what his friend's voice sounded like. What her face looked like. What their friendship had meant to him. Just being back in her presence made his mind and body relax and a sense of 'home' to take place. Back in the days when Harry, Hermione and Ron had never been sighted without the others, Harry had thought going back to Hogwarts meant he was returning home. But actually, it had been returning to the sides of Ron and Hermione that made him feel home. They were the reason he tolerated everything that annoyed him and survived everything that tried to kill him. And being back here, sitting beside one of the two people he truly 'loved' he finally felt home.

"Hermione, I-!"

She cut him off. "I know..." He turned his emerald eyes to the witch beside him and sank into the familiar brown pools of her eyes. Something clicked between them. They both leant in at the same time and wrapped their arms about the other. Harry rested his head on her shoulder, in the sweet smelling hair that floated about her head. She was holding him so tightly, and he her, that they both forgot to breathe. Hermione's head was buried in the nook of his neck and her tears were soaking his skin. Not that he minded. It felt so good to be close to her again and to feel the touch of her skin on his, that he almost forgot why they were embracing. Why they hadn't talked or seen each other since seventh year. It was as if they were back at school. Back before the time of Dumbledore's downfall and before the death of Voldemort. They were friends like always. Harry could almost hear Ron's bickering and see his bright red hair. Hermione's shaking body brought him from the memories. She was crying so hard onto his neck that she was struggling for breath. Harry pulled back slightly. Hermione looked up at him with puffy red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Harry!" she sobbed, hiccupping. Harry smiled.

"There's nothing to be sorry for! What's done, is done. And there's nothing we can do about it now." Hermione attempted to smile back but she just whimpered and sank her head back under his chin. Harry looked passed her to the two witches watching their reunion with glassy eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Ginny who was silently crying. She smiled toothily back, not noticing a tear about to drip from the end of her freckly nose. Harry turned to Pru who was watching their embrace with a curious expression. She leant towards Ginny and whispered something in her ear, so softly Harry heard nothing but Hermione's soft sobs. Whatever the witch said, it made Ginny snort then shake her head. Pru straightened up and continued her watchful gaze, a wicked smile on her face.

It was half an hour later and Hermione's face was still streaked with tears. In this time Harry had informed her of his life away from the Wizarding world and all the hassles it brought with it. He told her how he lived as a muggle, working long hours as a Security Guard and sleeping the morning hours away. He told how he missed them. And thought of both she and Ron, every day since he left. This brought fresh tears to her eyes. They silently slipped down her pink cheeks, being swept away by a mane of brown locks.

Hermione told him of her life as a Professor. She told him what she taught, how she did it and how satisfied it made her feel. She told of her travels and her life in France. Just the expressions that lit up her face made Harry remember good old times. But when she came to the part about missing him, and Ron, and everything about London, it sank down his heart. Her eyes dimmed and her head bowed as she told how she felt when he left because of her.

"That day was the worst of my life. We lost Dumbledore and you in one day. But we also were freed of Voldemort and the terror he spread through the world. I was so angry that you had cast a charm that I couldn't break. I felt useless! I could hear all the Aurors, Death Eaters, dark creatures and students fighting, screaming and dying. All I could do was listen, hoping against hope that one of the bodies falling was not yours. I should have been thankful that you most likely saved me from being killed by Voldemort or one of his followers but I wasn't! You knew how it felt to be held back, to be stopped from fighting a war you were involved in! That's how Ron and I felt, Harry!

"Then when the barriers fell away and we were able to see the battle ground, it was terrible! Bodies lay everywhere! I saw people I had had lunch with the previous day, fallen and dead at my feet. There was blood everywhere! And with the fire taking over the forest and dragons soaring the skies, I believed you were dead. Voldemort the victor. Then when I saw you alive and Dumbledore and Voldemort dead, I knew it was over. You had killed the most feared dark lord of our time and you hadn't even finished school! You had defeated him. Stopped the war! But all I could say and do, and did, was to yell at you for keeping me from fighting! I was so angry at you and so blinded to the bigger picture that I caused us to break-up our friendship! Ron and I had been so selfish that day! I wish I could turn back-!"

"No!" Harry cut her off, shaking his head and clasping her hand. "No, there is no use saying that. If we turned back time and you did things differently, if we all changed the way we acted back then, we may not be together now. Something might have happened that caused us to split up in a different way. One of us could have been killed or a larger issue could have destroyed our lives. Then we may not have ever forgiven one another! No, its better this way. With the years we have been apart, it only made our friendship stronger. It made our hearts and our minds truly understand what it was like to have you around. Back then, when i always had you and Ron around me, I took our friendship for granted. I never truly understood what you and Ron meant to me.

"Now I do..." Harry grinned sheepishly, "though its been good not having you bossing me around and telling me to study twenty-four-seven!" Hermione swatted his arm and grinned wryly through her tears.

"I can't believe I almost forgot the sound of your voice and how green your eyes are!" she said, sniffing away her tears. Harry grinned sadly and turned to Ginny. She was at the other end of the table, talking animatedly with the Pru Davies witch. She was smiling as she talked and making hand actions as if to visualize her point. Even from here, Harry could see her hazel eyes glittering with joy. He sat so enchanted by the swaying and sparkling of her sun-set locks, that he wasn't able to convert his gaze elsewhere quick enough when Ginny turned and caught his eye. She grinned as he blushed and turned back to Hermione, face burning.

"So you have been living with a muggle house-mate?" asked Hermione later that evening. The sun had been replaced by a large glowing moon that hung high in the sky like a crystal ball encaged in a body of dark. The stars scattered about the deep blue expanse like tiny pin-pricks of candle flame suspended in the atmosphere. Harry and Hermione were sitting on the low balcony watching the people in the street head home out of the cold. Hermione was wrapped in a blanket while Harry pulled his coat tighter around his body. Ginny and Pru had left a few minutes before, heading down the street for some drinks and late night treats.

"Yeah, Dave Ream," Harry answered, leaning against the guard rail. "He's been a great mate, smart and not one to ask too many questions. Too smart sometimes..." Harry gazed at the night sky, pin-pointing the tiny mass of gas that was Sirius. "I swear he almost discovered who I really was a few months ago. I had left my photo album on my bed and he asked if he could borrow a book of mine. So I sent him in. He was gone for a while so I decided to go and see what was keeping him."

"What happened?" Hermione breathed, gazing at him with large brown eyes. The moon sat reflected in their depths. The stars sprinkled with the specks of gold.

"I found him sitting on my bed looking through the pages. I could see them moving from where I was standing," Harry sighed. "I forgot that muggles can't see the photographs move. It was close though, too close. He could have found my wand or an old school book or something. But I guess, some part of me wanted him to discover my secret. It was so hard to keep it inside me, knowing one day the information would build up and explode or something. It was just too hard. And I felt so alone. "

Hermione moved over on the swinging bench she was sitting on and made room for Harry to sit. He took the spot reluctantly. She covered him with part of her blanket and leant into him. Her warmth somehow filled the gaping hole in his chest. It made him feel home. He smiled and placed an arm around her. They both looked out to the endless night sky. An owl hooted in a tree below. Just inside, two witches entered the apartment and made their way to the kitchen. From that point they were able to see the couple curled up on the bench outside. The elder's face grew amused and the other's puzzled.

"And you said they were just best friends?" One said while the other stayed silent.

The next morning bloomed bright and early. The couch Harry had slept on was quite comfortable and only one thought made him pull himself up and get ready. Hermione and Ginny were already up and about. Hermione had served a small breakfast with juice while Ginny gathered their things. Pru had already left to work leaving the three friends to let them-selves out. Once breakfast was over and their things packed, they exited the apartment and the whole building. Out in the street below, a cool wind whipped at their sides as they squinted through the rushing wind. Without a minute to pause they piled into the taxi cab that had pulled up beside them and joined the line of traffic heading out of the town.

Hey all its me here, who else! I think this chapter will be shorted than the others because I want to get Ron's point of view out. I started writing that chapter like over a week ago because I was so eager to get out Ron's view as he is my favorite character before Sirius! Well, hope you liked this, I'll try and make the next chapter longer!

Also I was highly disappointed in the previous chapter! I only got TWO reviews! Its either I'm an extremely bad writer, some people don't like chapters in other peoples POV or some of you can't be bothered writing a review! Or all of them! If I don't get more than four reviews, and that is still low, for my next chapter, I may not continue this story, easy as that!

Well, chow!

DW


	8. Time of Your Life

**Chapter 8 – **

**Time of Your Life**

…**---…---…---…**

The Ministry of Magic was busy this time of year. With all the organisation under way for the new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And the Quidditch World Cup taking place in England once more, this year was to be quite busy. They also had new Aurors being recruited as well as new wizards for the Magical Law Enforcement. Yes, this year was to be a nightmare.

The press had been playing up lately. They had somehow got wind of an attack on a small muggle town in Scotland and spread the rumour that it was another Dark Wizard like Voldemort. That was not the case. The Aurors had investigated and found out it was normal muggle terrorists. Also, Rita Skita was up to her old tricks. After disappearing for many years, she returned to the Wizarding World with more angst than ever. In her latest article she unearthed the secrets behind Minister Weasley's family. Stating that 'they were more like a mob of monkeys than human beings'. But because of the Minister's many children, he was able to pick up all sorts of useful information at the handiest of times.

All the new rumours being spread around in the Wizarding World and the fear of another Voldemort being born, it was a lot of work for the Junior Undersecretary to the Minister, Ron Weasley. And he was not one for pressure. At the moment he was stuck behind his desk in the office beside that of his father, Arthur Weasley, the Minister. On his desk was pile after pile of paperwork all to be read and sorted by the morning. It was a hard job, being the Undersecretary to the Minister and his son. Because, as well as work problems getting in the way, they also had family issues. And those types of problems could not be ignored.

Ron Weasley grumbled under his breath as a drop of ink splattered the previously neat sheet of parchment. Growling angrily, he scrunched the paper in his hands and through it towards the bin. It missed by an inch and joined many other balls of parchment scattered over the deep blue carpet. Dipping the long feathered quill into the ink pot, he began again. More carefully this time.

'_Monday, May Twentieth._

_Ronald Weasley, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister_

_Under Minister Arthur Weasley's instructions, nine Aurors-in-Training arrived to report for duty. All are under the age of twenty-five and have fully passed their Auror Training with one-hundred percent. They were all in the top places in their course. _

_The Minister had ordered for ten new Aurors to join the ranks of the British Ministry, only nine have arrived in the listings this morning. The tenth place was reserved for Jonathon Kilbert, a young American Wizard who passed his training in the top of his class and received the Certificate of Honourable Passing for reaching and breaking the top marks ever received by one Trainee in Britain. _

_The other nine, newly appointed Aurors are as follows:_

_Amelia Wilsone - Beauxbatons graduate – France_

_Taylor Rainman – Durmstrang graduate – Russia_

_Carter Anderson – Hogwarts graduate – Britain_

_Randle Molotov – Durmstrang graduate – Russia_

_Collin Franklin – Hogwarts graduate – Britain_

_Antoine Gabrielle – Beauxbatons graduate – France_

_Seamus Finnigan – Hogwarts graduate – Britain_

_Dean Thomas – Hogwarts graduate – Britain_

_Angelina Johnson – Hogwarts graduate - Britain _

_They will begin their further training on Wednesday the Twenty-second of June. Their missions will begin at the start of the next week, on Monday the Twenty-seventh. _

_Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic_

_Ronald Weasley_

Ron inspected his report and grinned. He placed it on a small pile of paper work sitting on the left side of his desk. Shifting his weight and stretching his arms above his head, he yawned. Sitting in thought for a few minutes in complete silence, Ron sighed and reached for the top paper on a pile on the right side of his desk. Reading it briefly, he picked up a blank sheet of parchment and began a report on the Quidditch World Cup, which was to begin later on in the year around October. The games had been postponed for that later time as they needed another Head for the Department of Magical Games and Sports as Mr Ludo Bagman had disappeared after the historical Tri Wizard Tournament over eight years ago.

As well as the loss of Ludo Bagman, Mr Crouch, the previous Head of Magical Co-operation, had been replaced by a male equivalent to Dolores Umbridge. Named Jeremiah Jesston, the toad-like man took pleasure in other people's pain and enjoyed turning down those less fortunate than himself. Ron often wondered it he was any relation to the woman who made his fifth year a nightmare.

But thinking of his fifth year and all the horrible things Dolores Umbridge did to him, brought back other, more painful memories. Thinking of how much that woman irritated and peeved him off, made him wary off how bad another got off. Because what Umbridge did to him was nothing compared to what she did to Harry Potter. Just that name brought spurts of anger mixed with guilt swim through his body. Anger from what he did and did not do on that day. And guilt from what he himself did or did not do. The memories from five years ago were as fresh in his mind as his morning breakfast was in his stomach. The feelings he felt back then were renewed to bubble inside him to this day.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had been friends. Best of friends. And Harry being the true Gryffindor, in flesh and soul, made him the more brave and fearless. Of course, Harry was occasionally afraid, but that was for the safety of others. He never thought about the consequences of his own actions on himself. He only thought about saving the ones he loved. And that's what made Ron angry. He could never be like that. Never hesitating when someone was in danger. Or never being strong enough to take on five grown men and live and walk through it. He could have never faced Voldemort. And he knew Harry knew that.

On that day, when Harry sealed the doors from the outside and placed a powerful charm over the whole of Hogwarts castle, Ron felt somewhat pleased that he did not have to fight. Just thinking about that day when Ron was glad he was safe inside the castle while his best friend was outside in the midst of the greatest battle ever seen in the Wizarding World; facing death around every bend, made him sick and cold to the bone.

But the feeling of being happy stuck in the doors of his school, was not long lasted. He watched as Hermione Granger used all her strength attempting to break through the Barrier Charm and help Harry. He watched as she kept trying and failing. Upon seeing her collapse to the floor, exhausted and in tears, Ron truly understood the power of friendship. Hermione knew every spell there was to learn at her age, but that didn't mean she would come out best against a duel with a Death Eater. But she did not care. She would die for Harry. And he for her. And there Ron was, pleased he was away from the danger. When it was all around him. In the end he discovered he would die for Hermione and Harry. For anyone in his family. But in the end it had been too late.

Being just a wall away from the edge of battle, made you able to hear the screams. The last breathing moments of his school friends, caught in a blood curdling scream, still woke him to this day. He would awake with his ears ringing with the sounds of dying voices, body coated in a cold sweat and tears flowing from his eyes. He never could understand how Harry had coped with it all the time. The voices in his head, visions replaying over and over. People dead once more living, caught in memories, only to be killed off once more.

The screams had been the second terrifying part of the whole ideal. The most horrifying part was when there were no screams. No noise. Just silence. The last sounds heard were ringing in their ears as they sat within the confides of the castle. They could not hear any more fighting. That was when you knew it was over. Ron had sat there, holding both Hermione and his sister, in total silence. He had been pale, clammy and teary-eyed when the doors opened. The barriers had dropped. Either Harry had dropped them himself, or they were forced to fall.

When he had stumbled from the hall, just before the others, he felt like vomiting. Blood was everywhere. The grass was coated in glittering crimson and the rocks sparkled with scarlet. Bodies had lain everywhere. Some were in Hogwarts robes others in plain black. A dragon was lying half inside the courtyard, the stones shattered and its beautiful scaly body tarnished with its own blood. All the dark creatures had fled or else their bodies lay with the bodies of humans.

As he had walked across the slippery, scorched ground, the only light the setting sun, he thought they were only those left alive. But slowly they rose, like a phoenix from the ashes. Some were students others teachers. Even Aurors stumbled over the bodies of the enemy. And as he watched, Ron spotted one figure standing apart from the rest. He could feel a strong power emanating from their poised figure. He was standing over a fallen man. A long silvery beard caught his eye from the lowering sun and his breath caught in his throat. For a moment he thought all was lost. And the man standing over the deceased Albus Dumbledore was none other than Voldemort. But the glitter of a familiar sword encrusted with rubies and the stunning emerald eyes brightened his spirit. The body of Tom Riddle was deposited on the ground behind Harry Potter, a single stab wound straight through the heart had taken his life.

But instead of greeting Harry like a brother, congratulating him on finally killing Lord Voldemort and setting himself free, Ron had been a total prat. He let his own feelings get in the way. Because Harry had locked him in, only to protect him, did Ron reject the best friend he ever had for pride. Harry had finally fulfilled the prophecy that had plagued his life. Destroyed the nightmares and avenged his parents death. And Ron turned him away. When Harry needed him most, he was not there. No one was. Hermione and Ginny had acted the same as he. So, Harry, with nothing left, had left. Broken-hearted and miserable. He had never wished to take another's life, even one as blackened as Voldemort's, but he had. And when he really needed support from the only family he had left, they weren't there.

That's what made Ron Weasley angry to this day. He was angry at Harry. Not for keeping him from fighting but for making him hate himself. For making him feel this way. Guilt plagued and tired. And all alone. Ginny had left a few days ago and hadn't returned. She had said something about heading into London to find something she had been looking for…what ever that meant.

Fred and George were off on some trip through Scotland to see how their shops were going. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had shot off. The twins now owned a number of joke shops through Britain and were looking to open more in Scotland. That's what they were doing over there now. They were looking for premises in close proximity to young witches and wizards homes. They had opened a small store as a run off of another store. It turned out to be a big success so they were going to put in a larger shop in the heart of Hogsmeade and the other Wizarding town of Ghashton.

Bill had transferred from his previous job to one closer to home in the Second War. He was working in the underground tunnels of Gringotts in Diagon Alley. He had the joyful job of setting new curses on the more expansive vaults and checking the tombs which sucked in burglars for any latest victims.

George was still working in Romania with the dragon colonies. There had been a dramatic drop in dragon numbers over the years and the few groups they had of the magnificent beasts, they had to be kept under close-watch and observation.

And Percy, well, he really did not care where he was. Abandoning your family was one of the lowest things one could do. And Ron considered him no brother because of that.

Another hour passed and half his paperwork had been completed. Glancing at the clock told him it was ten to three. Yawning loudly and stretching his hands to the ceiling, Ron gathered the completed reports and his dirty coffee mug, then walked from the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. Passing a small, self washing sink, he deposited his mug into the frothing water. A second later the newly washed cup rose from the water. Ron snatched it up and dried it under a air vent. He then replaced it in its respectful place in the cupboard.

Strolling up the wall, he arrived before the office of the Minister for Magic. Knocking three times, he entered and spotted his father behind a desk on the other side of the room. The office was quite large. With lush royal blue carpets and white leather arm chairs, the walls finished the room with all round windows. You viewed upon any scene you wished. At the moment it was viewing the insides of a tropical rainforest. Trees, full and flowered swayed in a non-existent breeze as a deer cantered past.

"Hey dad, I'm going home early today. I only have a few more papers to finish, so I will do them in the morning," Arthur Weasley looked up at his son. Grey was now flecked through his bright orange hair and his once shining eyes had grown with age. A few faint lines were placed around his eyes and forehead, showing the years that had past. His feather quill paused.

"All right, could you tell your mother I wont be home until six and to leave my dinner in the oven?" His voice sounded tired. Ron nodded. "Sure to, see you tonight." The youngest Weasley son left the office and walked down the hall. Stepping into the elevator, he closed the grate behind him and pressed the button for the Ground Floor Atrium.

A moment later he arrived in the brightly lit entrance hall. The runes still floated endlessly above him as he walked quickly across the shining floor. His shoes tapped at every step. Passing a bunch of people, he farewelled them as he joined the fast moving Express Floo-Fire place. Grabbing a handful of the green powder, he waited for the flames to return to their original colour as the previous traveller arrived at their destination. He threw the powder in and watched the flames turn emerald. Stepping in and speaking in a clear voice, "The Burrow!", he was whisked away in a twirl of ash and sparkling fire.

………………………

Brushing the ash from his pants he looked around at the only home he had ever known. Pots and pans were cleaning themselves in the sink; a broom was sweeping dirt up into a pile in the middle of the room; a feather duster was gathering dust of the shelves; an old wooden clock with, instead of numbers, had places that each member of his family was at. Looking at the clock and at one particular key and one particular face, Ron felt his stomach clench. During the summer after sixth year, Harry had come to stay with him at the Burrow. This was before his birthday. So, when his birthday came around they only gave him one gift. And the look of complete happiness etched across Harry's face made himself feel so happy and joyful that he was able to make his friend so content. On that day, they had given Harry a key that was to be placed on the Grandfather clock were each of the Weasley family had a place. On that day, Harry had truly become a part of a family. He had a family.

But when Harry left the Wizarding world, where-ever he went, his key had left 'Mortal peril' and moved to 'Unknown'. But at the moment, as Ron watched with both fear and joy, Harry's key was moving. It was moving from 'Unknown' to 'Travelling'. It was now between travelling and 'Home'. But his was not the only one headed for home. Ginny's was with his. On the exact spot; as was another. When they gave Harry his key, they put one up for Hermione as her parents had been killed and she was as much part as his family as he was. So at the moment, two people he so wanted to see, yet didn't, were headed here. And by the look of it; soon.

Ron sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, watching the clock while occasionally glancing at the front door. With his heart thumping loudly in his chest, he did not hear his mother enter through the back door. She came inside to find her youngest son at seat on the wooden floor, staring blankly at the old family clock.

"Ron? What are you-?" she was about to ask, before her eyes caught the three hands headed straight for the picture labelled 'Home'. "Oh my lucky stars!" she exclaimed, dropping the flower pot she was carrying in to give a drink. The smashing of the ceramic pot made Ron jump backwards and bump his head on the wall. He turned to see his mother, white faced and clutching her chest. He immediately stood to help her with cleaning the mess up from the floor. Once the cracked pot had been repaired and the dirt restored to the pot and the plant re-planted, both son and mother sat at the kitchen table, staring avidly at the clock with glances at the front door.

The keys were slowly moving towards their home when one stopped. It reversed and swung back to 'Mortal Peril'. He heard his mother take a quick intake of breath and her hand found his. Ron squeezed it tightly, eyes transfixed on his sisters face quivering between 'Mortal Peril' and 'Travelling'. Suddenly, Harry's key found its way to hers, as they both sat on the danger face. But they weren't there for long. They soon joined Hermione on travelling, making their way to 'Home'. It took another thirty minutes before the hands were almost at their destination. Ron could feel his thumping heart in his throat. He felt tremendously sick. Nerves racked his body and made his stomach swirl queasily.

Suddenly, the fireplace exploded with emerald flames. The sudden burst of light made both Ron and Mrs Weasley jump with fright. But they soon got over their scare as Ginny appeared from the flames, grinning broadly but looking tired. She was as soon out of the fireplace as she was swept into a large hug by Molly Weasley. Ron grasped her in a brotherly embrace letting her go when the green flames jumped into life once more. Out of the fire stumbled Hermione, looking as beautiful as ever. She smiled weakly at them, hugging Ron's mother and pausing at him. Ron smiled and pulled her into a tense hug feeling her return it; slightly. Just as she pulled away, eyes moist with tears, the fire leapt up for the last time.

A figure climbed out like a phoenix from the ashes. Long dark hair hung around his face like a majestic halo; no glasses framed his iridescent emerald eyes; he stepped forth, sweeping ash from his black shirt and pants. Ron stood firmly, feeling emotions well inside his body but he refused to let them go. Harry Potter was now standing before him. Ron, although having not seen him for over five years, remembered that haunted look in his friends eyes all too well. Harry still blamed himself for the final battle and the deaths caused. Forgetting he was mad at him and forgetting he was a twenty-two year old man, he stepped forward and hugged Harry fiercely. Harry tensed briefly before he returned the embrace, just as strong. Ron could feel his back shaking and feel his own eyes stinging. His brother was finally back.


	9. Coming to Terms

" _Those truly linked don't need correspondence. When they meet again after many years apart, their friendship is as true as ever…" - Deng Ming-Dao_

**Coming to Terms**

Harry stood there, happiness welling strongly in his heart. He hadn't felt this alive, this comfort since leaving the world he belonged to all those years ago. Just being in the presence of his best friends made him want to shout out in joy; but instead he just grinned broadly into his friends shoulder, the red head still being taller than him, if not by an inch. Just when Harry was about to pull away, he was pushed back but Ron. The look on his face made Harry's happy grin vanish completely. Ron was not smiling. There was no expression on his face and only a cold anger burning in his blue eyes. Without a word, Ron Weasley turned and walked to the door. It shut loudly as he passed through.

The silence could have been sliced with a knife. Harry made to follow, but Hermione stepped forward and clasped his hand. Her eyes were sad and she shook her head.

"He needs time," she murmured. Harry understood. Ron was not as forgiving as Hermione and it would be a while before he accepted that Harry was once more apart of his life. Harry sighed and hung his head; he hoped it was sooner rather than later. Before Harry could fully look around at the place he thought of as his home after Hogwarts, he was pulled into an extremely tight hug from a short Molly Weasley. Harry tensed, not having been hugged this lovingly from someone in a long time. But he relaxed into the embrace, hugging her tightly in return. Her warmth made him feel home and he remembered that feeling in his body as one belonging to a hug given by a mother. When the woman pulled away, her face was puffy and eyes red. Tears were slipping freely from her eyes as she looked at the man she called a son.

Harry looked at Mrs Weasley. Her once vibrant red hair had faded and a few grey strands were mixed in with the others. Her face had aged but still held that warm smile and loving gaze. She quickly wiped away her tears and smiled motherly.

"Harry, dear, you look so good! But still skinny as ever, and I bet you three are hungry?" Harry, Hermione and Ginny all nodded quickly. "Then I will go make us all dinner then we shall discuss what you have been up to for the last five years, okay?" They each grinned and followed Mrs Weasley into the kitchen were she immediately started to prepare for cooking. The three friends took seats at the wooden table. They talked of small things, like how well Arthur Weasley had been doing as Minister or how well the Fred and George were doing in the shop. For a while Harry just sat back and watched the two girls, no, women, talk about life.

Not long after dinner had been served and Harry was savoring the taste of a Molly Weasley Home-cooked meal, the front door was opened. The table was silent as footsteps approached the kitchen and a voice called out form the hall.

"I think our clocks playing up," said the familiar voice of Arthur Weasley. "It says that Ginny, Hermione and Har-!" at that moment his voice trailed off and his briefcase fell to the floor. Mr Weasley had just entered the kitchen and spotted the guests staring back at him. There was a silence only broken by a scraping chair as Ginny got up and wrapped her father in a hug. But the eldest Weasley's eyes were still placed on Harry, his mouth slightly open. Harry stood nervously and smiled in welcome. Arthur let his daughter go and moved forwards finally shutting his mouth.

"Harry?" he stammered, rubbing his eyes with a shaking hand.

"Hi," said Harry simply, stepping closer to the man. In a rush Mr Weasley had taken hold of him and was roughly giving him a fatherly hug. When he pulled away, Harry spied a glistening tear in the corner of his eye. Mr Weasley's age was now showing. His hair was specked with grey and his head was slightly bald. There were traces of worry lines on the man's forehead even though his expression was one of excitement and disbelief.

"Merlin, I wasn't sure if it was you! You have changed! Grown into a man! If it wasn't for the clock you would have had me making introductions!" said Mr Weasley, letting his wife kiss him on the cheek. "What are you doing here, not that I mind, its just...its been so long?" Harry sighed and sat back down at the table.

"Yes, it has been so long..." Harry murmured, chancing a glance at Ginny. She was watching him with a careful eye and his gaze did not go unnoticed. "I probably would have still been in London now if Ginny hadn't came and found me," said Harry, smirking as the youngest Weasley blushed. At this statement, Arthur turned his head to his daughter.

"You went to London to find Harry? You said you went shopping for some new robes and that you were going to spend a few days in the city!" Ginny turned even redder at this, making Harry laugh.

"No, she turned up at the end of last week and convinced me to come back. So after fetching Hermione, we came here," Harry said. But Mrs Weasley had gone white.

"But something happened on the way! Your hands went to Mortal Peril and we thought they had got you!" she stammered clutching her husbands hands. Harry thought back and remembered what had happened, but something else in her sentence had shaken him.

"Who are they?" he asked, glancing at Ginny. She had been smiling, but that faded slightly. "Oh, that! We were coming into London via Floo and I tripped through the wrong fireplace. I landed in a church in front of a whole bunch of religious muggles. The fireplace was hooked up to the Floo Network for some reason. So I just stood there, staring at them staring at me. Then this old guy comes at me wearing a thick purple robe with a sharp pole with a candle on the end. He was shouting something about devils and I was full of the dark stuff! So I just stood there, too dumbstruck to move when Harry appeared behind me from the fire and swore when he seen were we were. It would have been hilarious if I wasn't almost skewered to death by a crazy pope!" Ginny answered, laughing. Harry knew she was dodging his question.

"How did you get away?" asked Arthur Weasley in awe. "Oh, we apparated to the Leaky Cauldron were Hermione was waiting for us. And from there we came here," she finished laughing with Hermione.

"Who are they?" Harry asked again, gaining everyone's attention. Hermione seemed to be waiting as much as he for the answer. The three red-heads glanced at each other when a voice from the doorway answered for them.

"_They_ would be the death eaters," Harry looked up to see Ron leaning against the door frame, his face blank of emotions. Harry hadn't even heard the door open, it seemed none of them had.

"Hello, Ron, I wasn't sure if you were here or not!" said Mr Weasley, smiling.

"Death eaters? What are death eaters doing without Voldemort throwing orders? I thought the rest of them had been rounded up and sent to Azkaban?" Hermione nodded along with him but Ron snorted.

"Good lot of help that did. They were only in there for about a year before they were released." The red head said, scratching his arm. "What? Why?" Harry stammered.

"Fudge thought they would be no threat against the magical community since Voldemort was gone. That was the last major thing he did before dad took over, except for that statement about you," Ron said seating himself down at the head of the table.

"Then what is happening with them now? What are they doing?" Harry said. He thought, that once Voldemort was gone, that it would be the end of the dark times. That the death eaters would disappear with their lord, never to be seen or heard from again. But this news was startling.

"They have not done anything major at the moment," said Mr Weasley. "There has just been some activity around the old places were they mostly had their gatherings in the second war. There has been a few mysterious deaths and disappearances in the last few weeks, and we just thought they were accidental deaths and the disappearances were random. But we have been following the number killed and who they were and it turns out they were once death eaters or suspected activists in Voldemort's circle."

"So, someone is killing off the death eaters, why should we care?" Mr Weasley looked at him sadly. "We believe the inner circle is trying to get the death eaters together once more, and those that refuse to join are killed." Harry gaped at him. Death Eaters killing death eaters? And who was commanding them? Death eaters didn't usually go off on their own free will, summoning their fellow Voldemort supporters after many years apart. It just didn't make sense.

"Then who is controlling them? Without Voldemort, who is there that the death eaters would follow?" All faces turned to him, even the pale cheeked Hermione.

"We thought you might be able to answer that. That's why I came and got you and Hermione. If anyone knew that I was going for you, who knows what might have happened!" said Ginny, face serious and eyes pleading.

"You came and got me to help fight the death eaters once more? Couldn't you have got someone else?" Harry said. Anger was building inside him. Here he was thinking that Ginny had came for him because she missed him. But it turned out that the only reason they wanted him, was for the same reason as last time. But now, he was back to sweep up Voldemort's leftovers.

"Harry, you're the only one that can help. You defeated Voldemort at only _seventeen_! Imagine the things you could do now, five years later! The death eaters were only ever afraid of two people, even if they didn't show it! They were afraid of you and Dumbledore. Now that Dumbledore is gone, there is only you left to help!" as soon as she said it, she knew she shouldn't have. Harry's eyes had clouded over. Pain and guilt flooded through his body and memories surfaced of that final day.

"_Harry, you are the one who has to stop him, you are the only one that can. My time has come but yours has just begun! I will die today, that is certain, but the future of your life and the life of many others is in your hands. Fight, Harry, fight for your friends, fight for me and fight for yourself. All the pain you have suffered through the years was caused by Voldemort. Avenge your parents death!. Put Cedric to rest as well as Sirius. Take him down Harry, it has to be done. You are the only one who can save us all. Fight, Harry, and remember those who have fought with you through this age and will continue to do so for the rest of your life. Fulfill the prophecy and live!"_

Those were the final words of Albus Dumbledore spoken to Harry. The headmaster knew that his life was to be taken on that day and in that battle. And he fought till his death. And when it happened, the world seemed to stop. Harry had watched the curse leave Voldemort's wand and speed to its victim. Dumbledore had watched it with a reflected green in his once twinkling eyes. Harry's body had froze as Albus Dumbledore turned his head and looked into his eyes as the curse sped towards him. And just before the man was killed, he smiled at Harry. A smile a father would give a son to show how proud he was of him. A smile that held so much love for the boy in front of him. A smile that remained on his face even in death.

A hand on his shoulder pushed the memories form his mind. Harry looked up into the face of Hermione, tears glistening on her cheeks. Her eyes held so much sorrow as she looked down at that broken boy. Harry shook his head and stood. All eyes were on him as he exited the room, the pain and darkness following close behind.

The path took him to the back of the Burrow, through a small woodland and to the side of a small stream. There Harry sat, back against a tall tree and mind off to another place and another time. The memories took over his mind and visions from that day resurfaced.

"_There's nothing left for you, Harry. Dumbledore is dead and soon, so will your friends. Why don't you just join me, while you still can. Together, we can rule this world and rid it of all that is impure. If we combine our powers, all shall be ours. We would rule everything and all would be in our command. Join me and your friends can live. Join me or die!" said the monster before him. His red eyes reflected the blood and pain surrounding them. Students dying and fiends falling. Harry looked into the eyes that had haunted his life. _

"_Do you think I would join the monster that killed my parents? Do you think I would join a murderer who has destroyed the lives of thousands of families across Britain? Why do you think I would join you, Tom? Is it because you think if I fight you, you will die? So by offering your alliance to me, you would not have to face me in battle as you have done so many times before and lost? I would rather die before joining you." Harry answered, spitting blood onto the ground at the feet of the man before him. Voldemort's lipless mouth turned upwards in a crude smile._

"_Then get ready to die!"_

"_Then get ready to come with me!" said Harry, drawing the glittering sword forth._

The trickling stream was the sound that met his ears. Harry watched the glittering water run over the smooth pebbles beneath it. Watched how the light reflected off the surface and caught his eye in an enchanting play like a crystal in sunshine. Harry put a hand down the collar of his shirt and pulled out a chain which was hung around his neck. Upon it was a small, silver key. He watched the light catch the metal and shine in his eyes. Running his finger along the smooth surface, Harry got lost in the memory that accompanied the silver charm.

"_Here, Harry, take this." The headmaster placed a chain in his hand. Attached was a silver key, no bigger than his little finger. "What is it for?" Harry asked, staring into Albus Dumbledore's clear blue eyes._

"_I can not tell you that, but one day, when the time is right, you will know what to do with it and what lock it fits!" said the old man, smiling in that familiar way._

"_Why are you giving it to me?" he said, looking back down at the chain. "It is your destiny. So place it around your neck and keep it safe as the secrets it can unlock will change the way you live. I am sorry, Harry." Harry looked up at Dumbledore, clearly confused now._

"_Sorry for what, sir?" he asked. The headmaster sighed, taking off his half-moon spectacles and wiping them on his robes. When he placed them back onto his face, the twinkle was gone from his eyes._

"_I am sorry for keeping so many things from you. I am sorry for keeping you locked up for so many years. And I am sorry for not giving you a better life. I am sorry for everything!" Harry watched the headmaster as he stepped onto the revolving staircase and watched him until the doors slid into place and the stone gargoyle sprang to life and blocked the way. Looking down at the chain, Harry placed it over his head and hid it beneath his robes._

Harry looked at the key and wandered like the many times before, what secrets the key unlocked. And what Albus Dumbledore had hid from him again. Coming to a decision in his mind, he smiled crudely. It was time to go back to Hogwarts.

A sudden snap of a branch drew Harry's attention to the path. Letting the grip on his wand loosen, he greeted Ron. The red head walked nervously towards the stream. He picked up a stone and dropped it into the flowing water. Turning to him, he smiled.

"You had Ginny freaked out back there. You know, I think she still fancies you!" Ron said, grinning broadly. Harry smiled. "Its been over five years and all you can think of is your sisters feelings for me in second year." Harry said, throwing a stick into the trickling water.

"Well, we can talk about what happened in there. I know you still feel responsible for what happened back then, Harry. I know you feel guilty about Dumbledore's death and the people that were killed in the Hogwarts Battle. But you shouldn't." he said. Harry looked up at him, eyes stinging.

"Shouldn't I?"

"No, you shouldn't. They died for a cause. And you made their death something instead of nothing. They died while fighting for the Light. Dumbledore died fighting by your side. So did Sirius." This last comment brought back even more feelings from old, and Ron knew them all too clearly.

"And don't start on that 'I killed Sirius I was so stupid' stuff again. Once more, _it was not your fault_! If you have to blame anyone, blame Voldemort. But wait, you have killed him already, so why are you still cutting away at yourself? You have avenged your parents' death. You have avenged Sirius's and Cedric's! And you have avenged Dumbledore's while fulfilling your prophecy. So why all this crap, Harry?"

Ron had changed. Harry knew it by listening to him speak and watching the facial expressions light up his face. His best friend had just told him what he needed to hear. Harry grinned and stood up, wiping away the dirt from his pants.

"You know Ron, Hermione's looking more beautiful than ever! I was wondering if you had noticed?" Harry laughed as Ron's face turned beet red. The two walked by the water a but before turning back on the path, laughing and talking like old times. But in the shadows of the woods, a lone figure stood behind a tree, face hidden and an evil smile playing on their lips.

_**Hey hey! How was that one? I just wrote most of it just then and I'm posting it now! So, enjoy it and please review! I would love, love, love to get to one hundred reviews by chapter ten. And if I do, I will post two chapters in one! So, there is a deal for you!**_

_**Thanks!**_

_**DW**_


	10. What Time Brings

**What Time Brings**

He watched them.

He watched how Hermione's eyes glittered with humour when she laughed and smiled. That spark of familiar brown summoned memories to his mind.

**oOo**

_Hermione's laugh filtered through the common room. Ron was imitating a troll. Thumping around the scarlet carpet, a bewildered look on his freckly face. Their laughter followed him, their cheers driving him on. Harry was laughing along with them. Hermione turned to him, with her brown eyes sparkling._

**oOo**

That had been just after the exams, one week before the Hogwarts Battle and the end of Tom Riddle's reign over the Wizarding World.

She turned to him now, love for her friends shining clearly in those brown pools. He returned her glittering smile, emotions tugging at his heart.

A loud snort of laughter from Ron drew Harry's attention. His friend's fiery red hair sparkled in the light from the hanging lantern. His blue eyes were a window into his swirling mind. A spark was glowing there, burning with the laughter pouring from his mouth. It was a lit flame, sparked by the return of his two best friends. Ron turned to him and grinned goofily. That smile was given when the red-haired man had said or done something foolish. A new memory surfaced.

**oOo**

"_Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted, marching into the common room, her brown hair frizzing with electricity. Ron sank down lower in his armchair by the fire, ears turning red. Harry laughed as she thrust a muddy pair of Quidditch robes into his lap. Ron looked up into her glowering face. He shrugged, smiling goofily, looking passed Hermione to Harry._

**oOo**

That scene flickered in his mind, as clear as the day he had received it. Those had been the days when all had been happy and perfect. Even at that time, the threat of Voldemort still hung around them like an ill-fitting cloak. But being in Hogwarts, surrounded by his friends, made the thought of Voldemort waver into a thin wisp of mist that sat at the back of Harry's mind. The Second War and the final battle seemed to be years away, they had as much time as they liked. But Harry's life was not meant to be perfect or carefree; Voldemort was not meant to be pushed away like an unwanted dinner. He had been real and coming ever closer each minute Harry had let down his guard. Harry was meant to be ever watchful. He was the one supposed to defeat the Dark Lord and there he was, fooling around in the common room. He could have been training for the last war, if he had just pushed himself that extra bit and readied himself more, he could have saved more lives. He could have prevented innocent people being killed. He could have stopped Albus Dumbledore from dying.

Guilt plagued him like an everlasting storm cloud. Nightmares and memories combined to create a raging tornado of pain inside his body and soul. Every time he heard the headmaster's name a new layer of guilt pressed down upon him harder; suffocating the breath from his lungs.

At each gaze of his old friends and acquaintances, memories spilled in from forgotten parts of his mind; things he thought he lost, never to be seen or heard again by his tormented mind. Scenes enveloped his vision; of a time passed.

**oOo**

_The surface of the lake glittered in the light from the blazing sun. The giant squid was basking on the shore, one of its many tentacles reaching for a picnic basket resting between a couple under a tree. The students were out on the grounds, this spring being rather hot and stuffy. A few older boys were even swimming in the lake, dodging swipes from the giant sea creature. Girls were sunbaking along the bank or dangling their feet in the shallow waters. Harry felt at peace under the large tree at the edge of the lake. It was the same tree that his father had sat under many years ago. It made Harry feel alive and at home, sitting in the same spot that once his dad had sat in. _

_Someone called his name. He turned to spot Professor McGonagall hurrying down the grassy slope towards him. Harry stood and walked over to meet him. He began to smile but let it drop at the look on the old woman's face._

"_What's wrong?" he said, feeling nerves creep into his stomach. McGonagall's eyes were glistening with tears and her face was white. "The headmaster needs to see you urgently, in his office," Harry nodded and hurried up the grounds. A moment later he was standing before Albus Dumbledore, spotting no twinkle in his clear eyes. He looked older that Harry had ever seen him and his eyes were full of pain and sadness._

"_What is it, sir?" Harry asked. Dumbledore looked into his emerald eyes and let a tear drop from behind his half-moon spectacles._

"_He got them, Harry. Tom has killed the Dursley's"_

**oOo**

Harry blinked away the tears threatening to spill. He moved his gaze from the chipped table, his mind a whirl wind of emotions and memories. His eyes fell on Ginny.

Her hair framed her face like a fiery mane. Her eyes glittered magically through a creamy freckled face. It contained a calming beauty. It was like looking into the face of your mother and you knew that those eyes would never hate you, never turn you away. It was only love and care he found in those hazel orbs.

Harry just watched her eyes sparkle with laughter and began to love the way her hair curled to the left side of her face. The freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks contained a hidden puzzle; waiting to be uncovered.

As he continued to sit enchanted by her tender movements, Harry began to feel the pain slowly fade and the memories dissolve, so he was left in the present, staring at Ginny Weasley: his saviour from the life he once called his own. He was now back where he belonged; with his family.

"Harry, can you hear me?" Harry was drawn from his reverie at the sound of Ginny's ringing voice. He blinked a few times and stared back into her puzzled eyes.

"Ah, yes?" he stammered, feeling his cheeks flush. All eyes were on him. Hermione's glittering brown; Ron's clear blue; and Ginny's soothing hazel.

"I asked if you were okay. You've been staring into space for a while and you haven't said a word for an hour!" Ginny said her red hair bouncing at the slight turn of her head.

"Oh, yeah, just thinking…" His voice trailed off. He knew their eyes would be watching him. Minds working on trying to figure him out. Self-consciously, he rubbed his finger over the rune tattooed on his middle finger. Hermione caught his movement; her eyes held the familiar signs of a problem being solved.

"When did you get that done, Harry?" she asked softly, locking his eyes with her own. Harry sighed.

"About a year after I left. When the memories got too much…" Again, he rubbed the mark, remembering the time when he couldn't even sleep without seeing death.

"What does it mean?" asked Ron, his eyes were fixed on the little black rune, with wide eyes. Hermione never let her eyes waver from Harry's.

"It is the Elfish symbol for _Hope_. But in the old language, it says:_ let those who remember, forget._ It is meant to protect from nightmares which were caused by horrors the victim witnessed." Her eyes glazed with brimming tears as Harry fought the screams of those who died.

"Oh," was all Ron said, lowering his head.

"Did it help?" asked Ginny softly. Harry caught her gaze.

"A bit. It made me forget the sights of the deaths through my life. But the screams will always be with me," he said, forcing his eyes to stare at the scratched table. The lamp blinked overhead. It was quite late. Probably a bit after midnight. Molly and Arthur had retired to bed an hour before. So it was just the four of them; now lapsed in an uncomfortable silence. Thoughts ran through each of their minds; each one remembering something different; each more horrific that the last.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. "I'm quite tired, I think I might go to bed," he stood up, keeping his gaze away from any of theirs.

"Okay, mate, you're sleeping in the twins' old room, remember where it is?" said Ron, his voice straining. Harry nodded and faked a goodbye smile.

"Goodnight," he simply said. "Night, Harry," murmured Hermione, trying to wipe away the tears without him noticing.

"Try to sleep well," Ginny said, almost a whisper. Harry walked quickly from the room but slowed once he entered the hall.

Harry had always consider the Burrow his home. The old paintings on the walls watched him with unseeing eyes. The grandfather clock ticked in the shadows. A single gong signalled that it was now half-passed twelve. Even the smells reminded him of old times; a scent of herbs and dust.

The stairs creaked as he made his silent way up to the second landing. He was one with the shadows; dark hair and dark clothes, even a dark past. Only his eyes shone from the darkness; two points of emerald pain.

Harry found his room, even after over seven years without walking these halls. He collapsed on the bed, the darkness his blanket. His body ached from too long on his feet, but sleep did not claim him. Instead, visions swirled in his mind, like a pensive sucking in memories none wanted the world to see. Harry lay motionless in the shadows, while tears glittered on his cheeks from the light of the moon.

………………

The morning arrived a little too early for Harry's tastes. It was still dark as he dragged himself from the warmth of his bed. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt and tiptoed from the house. The cool morning air bit at his skin as he walked the path from the back of the Burrow. He did not sleep much these days. He was never able to have a complete night without having a dream or hearing screams from hi mother or the Last Battle. The rune was able to protect from some of the vilest memories but other minor ones, such as moments with Albus Dumbledore, struck the most pain in his heart.

Harry followed the path leading to the small stream at which he sat the previous day. Birds were just beginning to wake. They were singing tunes of happiness and joy into the morning air. With the lovely green leaves bordering the forest and bushes making homes for small creatures, Harry felt at peace. It was so nice here, and he forgot what it felt like to be free. With Dave in London, he had to cover up everything he did. His muggle roommate did not know of Harry's talent and wouldn't understand them if he did.

But here, in the presence of the woods and the slowly trickling stream, he was able to do whatever he liked. Of course, he could use magic around the others, but it felt weird to do it around other people when he wasn't allowed to for so long.

He sat down with his back against the trunk of the tree and breathed in the scents of dirt and life. He pulled out his wand, conjured a glass, and filled it with water from the end of his wand. He took a sip and sighed in relief. It tasted so good, even if it was water.

The soft trickling of the water and the lulling tunes of the birds, caused him to feel drowsy. Soon after, the glass fell from Harry's grip and landed with a _thump_ on the grass. His head fell to the side and his slow breathing indicated he was asleep. From the other side of the stream, a figure hid behind a tree.

………………

She watched him sitting there, with his back up against the tree, his eyes closed in clumber. The morning light, just beginning to appear, played on his dark hair. Black rimmed glasses no longer hid his eyes. She imagined them open, all green and enchanting. It was like looking into an emerald ocean, where the waves of his emotions sent ripples across the surface.

Luna Lovegood remembered him from Hogwarts. She had only known him since her fourth year, where she had been granted a certain spot in Harry's little group. That year, and those that followed, had been the best she ever had. All through Hogwarts, she pretended she didn't care what others thought of her. She did what she liked, keeping her chin held high and ignoring nasty comments made behind her back or even to her face.

But it had hurt. All that she kept so hidden, had been tearing her up inside. No one knew what it was like to be so alone in the world, with no one understanding you or what you believed in. She had lost her mother when she was young and watched her die. But still she stayed brave. She had to care for her father who had retreated into his magazine and remained isolated form his own daughter. So Luna was forced to go through her school days alone and with no one to understand.

Then she met Harry. He had always been looked down on. Before she went to Hogwarts, she remembered hearing things about him. Sometimes people would call him a hero and the saviour of the Wizarding world. But others would call him an attention-seeking brat only caring about what he would get. They believed that Harry Potter was a pompous boy, over-confident and boasting about his triumph over the Dark Lord.

When Luna had attended Hogwarts, she had watched him. He was nothing what everyone said he was. She heard people calling him names but still he held his head high. So she copied him. When others called her weird and loony, she just looked down at them and held her head high. She believed in what she wanted to believe in. And she believed in Harry.

He was always being hurt or hunted down by a mad wizard every year. Luna honoured him. Not for his bravery and fearlessness in facing all those dangers, but on his heart and mind. Harry Potter was not a pompous little hero, but a shy, kind boy. He did not like the attention others gave him and cared not for the fame his parents death had brought. He treasured what he had. And that was two great friends that he would protect til the day he died.

So, in her fourth year, when Ginny Weasley had introduced her to Harry, she looked into his eyes and smiled. She already knew him enough to know his name and dreams. From that day on, she was connected to Harry by more than one thing; he had been orphaned when he was little over one year old and forced to live with people who didn't understand him. Luna was much older than him when her mother had been taken but it hurt all the same. She was so young when she had to care for her father and look after herself through their depression.

After her fourth year, when Harry was in sixth, she became a part of his life in Hogwarts. No longer was she Luna 'Loony' Lovegood. She was Luna, friends with Harry Potter and part of his legendary trio now made six. Her last years at Hogwarts were her best for many reasons; one, Harry made her feel accepted and made her feel fit in. Two, they shared a common bond; they knew what it felt like to loose someone you loved. And what it was like to be shunted and ridiculed for no reason accept following your beliefs. And three, she finally had someone that would risk his life to save her own, no matter the consequences.

So, now, as Luna Lovegood watched the dozing form of Harry Potter, she smiled.

Through all the years Harry had been missing, she prayed that one day he would return and make her feel accepted once more. And here he was, asleep and happy. No nightmares plagued him this day, she could tell by the way his eye lids remained still and by the smile that was tugging at his lips.

She sat by the whispering stream and listened to the soft trickling of the water running over stones. Harry shifted once in his sleep and that was when a leaf fluttered from the tree he was leaning against, and scraped against his cheek.

………………………

As the sun was growing large and hot in the sky, Harry Potter awoke. The glare from the blazing sun made him blink furiously. The birds were singing as he looked across the stream. For a moment, he believed he spotted a woman standing on the opposite shore. But when the sunshine lifted, there were only the trees, whispering in the slight breeze that blew their branches.

…………………………

_**How was that one? I'm so, so, so sorry that it took so long for this to come out! And I have a reason for it. My computer crashed a couple of weeks ago and I was only a few paragraphs into this chapter. I didn't get the computer back until Tuesday night and by then I was freaking out from lack of writing and reading. SO I have been writing frantically for the passed two days and here is the finished product. There probably are a few errors in it, but I might go through later and fix them up.**_

**_Thanks to my reviewers, especially Kraeg who gave me titles to some songs. I might use some of the lyrics the next chapter or the one after, depends what I decide to write. You're the best, mate! Luv Ya!_**

_**Peace Out**_

_**DW**_


	11. Changes

**Changes**

"Harry, could you pass the marmalade?" It was breakfast in the Burrow. Ginny, Hermione and Molly had cooked up a large, delicious breakfast. The sounds and smells of the occasion brought a grin to Harry's lips. He passed the marmalade to Ginny and returned to the conversation he was having with Arthur Weasley.

"We are now working on improving our connections with the remaining giant colonies. So far, we have found a group in Britain and another in Greenland. However, they don't seem to trust us. Voldemort must have affected them more than we may ever know. We have reason to believe there is a small clan in the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts. It seems after the main male was introduced with a female the clan has spread. We're not sure if they are hostile, but Hagrid seems stuck on the idea they they're friendly and he knows the leader," said the greying redhead, sipping at his coffee. Harry nodded and grinned sheepishly. He remembered Grawp and the day Hagrid brought his half-brother a mate. Her name was Relafiel or Rela for short. She was even wilder than Grawp had been. Luckily, when the two giants met, they formed a bond and settled down quickly in the deepest parts of the forest.

At the thought of this, Harry brightened. "Say, Arthur, how is Hagrid these days?" he said, chewing his toast, unable to keep his excitement hidden.

"Quite well, actually. He is still working at Hogwarts, but moved his cabin into the forest well he has expanded it to accommodate Madam Maxime and their children," Harry almost choked on a piece of bacon.

"_Children?"_ he stammered. Arthur nodded eagerly, grinning broadly. "Oh yes. Olympe had twins the summer before last, a boy and a girl. The boy is named Goliath and the girl is Arowyn. Great children, taking after their parents. It's the next generation; hopefully they will strengthen ties between our race and the giants." Harry was stunned by the news. Had he missed so much?

"What else has happened while I was away?" he asked, starting back on his breakfast, which consisted of almost cold eggs.

Mr Weasley looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, you know about the twins' business, they should be back from their trip tomorrow evening, hopefully. Charlie is doing great in work. Oh, Bill and Fleur were married last Easter and she is due for her first child next month!" said Arthur proudly, his eyes glistening.

"That's great!" Harry said. "Still no word from Percy?" Harry felt he had to ask. Personally, he did not care what had happened to the git, but he knew that Mr and Mrs Weasley still worried about him.

"I'm afraid not. However, Ron said he seen him last month, briefly, in muggle London. I'm still not sure what he was doing down there. But, he's looking after himself. Still…" Arthur looked over to his wife who was chuckling at something Ginny had said, and then shook his head.

"Hopefully he'll come round soon. It's been too long, too long for everything. I'm just glad your back, Harry, for everyone." He said truthfully, clapping him on the shoulder. It was great to be back with the Weasley's. Ever since he had entered the Magical World, Harry had considered them his family. It didn't matter about blood, in his heart they were what mattered. Molly was his loving mother, if he couldn't have Lily; she was the next best thing. Arthur was his father; caring and devoted, if he could not have James or Sirius, he would have Arthur. Then there was Ron, his best friend, his brother through and through. He had stuck by Harry all these years, except for the times they had their slight disagreements, but they were always ended quickly. They were practically inseparable. Fred, George, Bill and Charlie were his older brothers. Good for giving advice and help if needed.

Then there was Ginny. Back when he was in school, Harry would have considered Ginny like his sister. But things had changed. She was no longer the small, skinny eleven year old who had written him a poem for Valentine's Day in his second year. She was a full-grown witch, beautiful and talented. It would be wrong to call her his sister, although the love for her was still present. He couldn't call her his sister as he felt feelings for her that a brother shouldn't have for his sister. It was like, being back here, made his feelings finally fully develop. A few years ago, they had been there but he didn't realise, but the time apart had made Harry truly understand what they were and that had strengthened them.

Hermione was his true sister. He loved her completely. He trusted her with his life, as she did his. She was the one that had stuck with him up to the final battle. If it was not for her, Harry would have been killed in his first year by the Devil's Snare; Harry could have seen the headlines:_ The Boy-Who-Lived strangled to death by a plant! _

If darkness threatened to consume him, at any part in his life, she and Ron were always there to draw him back out. And he loved them for that. They had been there when he felt all was lost, when Sirius died. The only other person who truly understood how he felt was Remus Lupin…

Harry whipped his head around to face Arthur, his heart thumping in his chest. "Have you heard anything about Remus?" he said quickly and softly. Arthur swallowed what he was eating and gazed at Harry with eyes full of pain, sorrow and pity.

"No, I'm sorry Harry; we haven't seen him since you left, all those years ago…"

"Then do you have any idea where he would be?" he said once more. Arthur just looked at him and shook his head slowly. "Well, I need to find him. Where have you looked?"

"We looked in Grimmauld Place, Remus's old home, Sirius's old home; we looked everywhere we thought he would be. But we can't find him!" said Mr Weasley sadly. Harry hung his head, disappointment and pain building inside him. It was his fault that Remus was gone now. And they did not know where he was. He could be dead for all they knew.

"Don't go there, Harry," he said softly under his breath so no one would hear. It was not the time, or place, for thoughts like that to be popping into his head. It was a time for celebrating and remembering. There would be a time for mourning later, where no one could see. Besides, Harry would have felt it if Remus was dead. After all, he was the son and godson of two Marauders. Harry would find Remus, whether it took him years to do so. Moony was not meant to be kept hidden away. Harry needed him. It was his fault he was gone, so it would be Harry to bring him back. No matter the cost.

"Hey, Harry, are you up for a game of Quidditch?" came Ron's voice, breaking Harry's chain of thought.

"Huh?" he answered, shaking himself. Ron looked at him strangely. "I asked if you wanted to play some Quidditch. Do you still have your broomstick?" said Ron, grinning goofily. Harry inwardly swore.

"I'd love to, but I forgot all my other stuff in London!" Harry answered, hitting himself in the head. "Well, you can just borrow one of our old brooms if you want?" Ron suggested, biting into a sausage. Fat dripped from it in a sickly slime. Harry cringed and turned down to his half-finished sausage.

"Nah, I think I might just Apparate over there and pick my stuff up, that way I don't have to go back later. Anyway, I have to hand in my badge and uniform."

"Oh, okay, mate. Well," Ron looked slightly excited for a moment. "Do you mind if I come, it would be great to see where you've lived for this long!" he said hurriedly, his eyes glittering. Harry grinned. "Sure, mate. We can go as soon as you finish your breakfast." Just as Harry said this, Ron was shovelling his eggs into his mouth with a newfound passion.

"'eady!" he managed, spitting a few bits of chewed egg onto the tablecloth. Ginny squealed at this, pushing her chair back to avoid being sprayed with Ron's breakfast.

"You're so disgusting!" she said, sweeping the front of her top. "Can I come too, Harry? I have to speak with Dave," Harry nodded and stood quickly, yawning in the process.

"Sure," he said, dropping his arms. Hermione was looking up at him, with shining eyes, while batting her eyes lashes. Harry grinned at her. "Yes, you can come too, Hermione. We just have to tell Dave that we are old friends and lived in the same neighbourhood when we were younger."

"Why can't we say we went to the same school?" asked Ron. Harry shrugged. "I told him I went to St Brutus's and that's an all boy's school. You could say you went to the same school, if you want, Ron?" he said, grinning.

"Nah, I'll be alright, I don't need to tell people I went to some nutters school for the insane or something,"

"Yeh, they can just look at you and know that!" said Ginny, causing all of them to laugh, including Mr and Mrs Weasley.

"Well, we better go." Harry said, "We should be back around lunch, if all goes well" The others followed his lead into the Lounge Room. "We will just apparate to the Apparation Point in Diagon Alley, okay?" The group nodded at him. Harry pulled out his wand and swished it slightly. In a moment, and after a loud _crack_, he was gone. Ron, Hermione then Ginny followed his movements. The room was left in silence, with the soft tick of the grandfather clock sounding in the background.

……………

The sounds and smells of the familiar Wizarding Street met Harry's senses. He had not entered Diagon Alley for four years, and he forgot how much he liked it. Witches and wizards were walking the streets, laughing and talking in the golden sunlight. Even though it was early, the street was alive with the buzz of shopping. Harry stepped off the Apparation Platform just after Ron appeared beside him on the next platform. He too grinned at Harry's expression and swept his hand in a greeting motion.

"Welcome, to Diagon Alley!" he said, laughing along with Harry. Once the girls had apparated to them, the group moved off through the busy street. Objects in store windows caught Harry's eyes every second and he couldn't keep the broad smile from his face. Ginny and Hermione were smiling along with him, but their grins were directed at him. Anyone could see Harry was happy.

As they moved through the Alley, Harry was drawing many eyes to him. Witches passing opened their mouths and their eyes and stared at him. Harry walked straight passed them, his eyes staring at a space before him. A few familiar faces popped into their way, but they continued. Just as they were walking passed Flourish and Blotts, an elderly woman walked form the shop and clasped Harry's arm.

"Thank you!" she said into his ear. Harry was taken back and looked into the woman's face. It was quite familiar and her blue eyes sparkled with an intense glint. "For what?" he stammered.

"For everything!" she said. Then it struck him. This was Neville Longbottom's grandmother, except she was missing the stuffed vulture hat, which was the reason Harry did not recognise her. She let his arm go and smiled broadly. Harry watched her disappear into the thick crowd, a strange feeling welling inside him. In the Battle of Hogwarts, just as Voldemort had appeared, Neville was in the Green Houses. A whole swarm of Dementors had flown across the forest and into the grounds. Harry, spotting them, had fled down through the doors. He sent his patronus flying at them while he ran to warn the Herbology class.

But, just before he got there, Death Eater's apparated into the grounds, the wards having been broken by Voldemort. Neville was placed on the Cruciatus Curse, as were many of the others. Neville was about to be killed by one of the masked villains, when Harry pounced on the man and brought him head first into a newly transported Japanese Fighting Fern. The plants many thorned vines had dug into the Death Eaters flesh and strangled him. Other students had flocked onto the grounds, as did the professors, just as the other Dark Creatures appeared. Harry had helped Neville up to the castle, where he placed the boy in the care of Madam Pomfrey just before he cast the Boundary Charm over the castle.

Harry had been learning that charm for many months. He had known it would come in useful when an occasion like this arose. He had made sure it only prevented Death Eaters, Voldemort and dark creatures from entering the castle, but allowed the professors and light fighters to enter the castle. Harry had also placed a few sort out words into the spell that kept Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the first years inside the castle and behind the boundary charm. This type of incantation had caused much of Harry's energy and magical power to diminish. Luckily, he always carried a phial of Everlast in his pocket from Snape's private store. Once swallowed, it replenished the drinker's energy and power. Back in the days following the prophecy's reading, Harry had been ready for everything. He purchased himself a second wand and participated in extra training and classes.

Even, in the middle of his sixth year, Professor Dumbledore had asked if he wanted to learn to become an Animagus. Harry had immediately agreed, but found out it took up too much of his time for training. So he had abandoned that project just before the last stage at the beginning of his last year. Hermione and Ron knew none of this, but they participated in some of his other training, such as weapon fighting like swords and daggers. Also, they learnt new spells, new hexes. The headmaster wanted Harry to learn the Unforgivables, mainly the Killing Curse, but he refused. He would not sink to Tom's level by using the curse that killed his parents.

A sharp pain in his knee brought Harry back to the present. He had run into a garbage bin. He rubbed his leg, hissing in pain. Ron snickered at his side. Harry just glared at him to find himself standing outside the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione and Ginny were watching him with worried eyes while Ron stood oblivious to Harry's wandering mind. They entered the dingy pub. Harry was shortly stunned at how the place hadn't changed. There was still a thin layer of smoke hanging around the ceiling and the odd veiled figure hiding in the corner.

They passed through without meeting anyone and entered the cool street on the other side. Muggles were passing by without throwing a glance their way. Cars drove up the street and a boy on a bike rode passed. Harry stepped to the curve and hailed down a taxi. It pulled over to the side and Harry got in the front while the others squeezed into the back. The cab driver was an over-weight man with a long beard and stringy moustache.

"Where to lads and ladies?" he said in a rich Scottish accent.

"The Fresh Snow Apartments thanks," Harry said. It took around twenty minutes for them to reach the tall apartment block. They all piled out from the car, Harry paying the driver eleven pounds for the trip.

"This," said Ron, signalling to the building, "is where you spent the last five years of your life?" Harry grinned and said, "Yes." Before walking up a slight slope and entering the main lobby. He led his friends down a thin flight of stairs and entered a long hall of locker rooms. As he walked down the middle, he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket. He stopped before a large wired door and placed a certain key into the padlock. A second later, the lock clicked and the gate swung open. Inside were three large trunks, containing all of Harry's things. Casting a quick look around, he flicked his wand and turned the security camera around to face the wall while he shrank his trunks and put them in his pockets. A while later they re-emerged into the lit lobby. Harry handed over his key to the front desk and entered an elevator after the others. He pushed the button for the third floor and waited for the usual sinking feeling to hit his stomach.

When they reached the top, Ron rushed out, grabbing his mouth. "I am so taking the stairs back down!" he said. The other's laughed at him and made their way to the sixteenth room. Harry knocked once before entering, it was, after all, his home too.

It seemed to be empty, so he began to boil the kettle to make them all a cup of tea. Ginny sank down onto the sofa and looked quite content. Hermione walked out to the balcony and was watching the streets below. Ron was inspecting every piece of muggle ware in the house. He almost jumped out of his skin when he switched on the ice machine and spent a good bit of thirty minutes picking up each piece of ice. Harry sat down at the kitchen table and looked around at the place he called home for five years. It was nothing like the Burrow. Or Hogwarts.

Oh, how he missed that place. With the ghosts and enchanted armour; moving staircases and hidden rooms and passages; the magic and the good memories. He just wished he could go back there, just to spend a day walking the corridors and sitting at desks he once sat at and see teachers who taught him all he knew. He would even give a galleon to see Severus Snape again; Harry did not know what had become of the snivelling Potion's Master. But Harry owed a lot to him. He saved Harry's life in his seventh year and it almost lost him his own.

The sound of the front door opening drew his attention. The doorknob was rattling. Everyone was watching it as Dave Ream entered. The man looked scared out of his wits when he spotted Harry sitting at the table. When he composed himself, his eyes roamed over to Ginny on the couch, to Hermione staring at him on the balcony and at Ron, who was half way through disassembling the cappuccino maker. His eyes met Harry's and he started forward.

"Hi, James," he said shakily. "Didn't expect to see you back any time soon…" He placed his jacket and car keys on the door side table and stood uncomfortably near the table.

"Hello, Dave," Ginny said pleasantly. He glanced at her and seemed to find himself. "Hey, Gin, what are you doing here?" he asked, slightly confused. She smiled brilliantly at him, making Harry's stomach clench momentarily. Hermione walked in from outside and held her hand out to Dave.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger, you must be Dave." She said, shaking his outstretched hand. Dave seemed quite taken back by her abruptness but greeted her in return.

"Yes, I'm Dave, nice to meet you," he said hesitantly. "And that is Ron Weasley," she said, motioning to Ron, who was straightening back up, trying to hide the in pieces coffee machine; his ears were bright red.

"Hey," Ron said, walking to the table and sitting down next to Harry, who grinned sheepishly at him.

"Yeah, sorry about intruding, Dave, but I needed to pick up the rest of my stuff and Ginny wanted to talk to you." Harry said. Ginny turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "So, erm, here we are," he said, scratching his head. Hermione huffed, as did Ginny.

"Could I speak to you in the other room, please, Dave?" Ginny asked standing and taking the muggle man by the hand and dragging him down the hall. Ron looked ready to follow them but he kept still in his seat.

"So, that was your room mate?" Hermione said, sitting down on the other side of Harry, sipping at her cool tea. "Yes, that was Dave. Watch what you say around him, as he's as smart as you," Harry said warningly. They nodded and stopped their conversation just before Ginny and Dave returned. Dave was looking a little but disappointed about something but Ginny seemed slightly satisfied.

"Have a nice chat?" asked Ron stiffly. "Yes, as a matter of fact, we did." Said Ginny. Dave smiled shakily at Harry and fixed himself a strong cup of coffee. "So, how do you lot know each other? Harry said he didn't have many friends when he was in school?" Dave asked, his brown eyes sparkling curiously. Ron glanced at Harry who was looking blankly out the window.

"We all lived in the same neighbourhood. Ginny and Ron are brother and sister, and I was friends with them and their family." Harry said as if it was the truth. Dave nodded and seemed to believe it. Hermione was looking at Harry with her mouth slightly ajar. He was so used to lying now that it seemed like second nature to him.

"Well, if we've done everything we've came to do, we better go. I told your mum we would be back around lunch and its a quarter passed twelve now." Harry stated, removing his gaze from the bird on the railing and standing up to face them.

"All right, mate. Are you going to come back soon?" Dave asked, standing as well. "Sure to," Harry answered, gathering their mugs and carrying them to the sink. "I might come back at Christmas, if that's okay, just to say hello to your sister, I told her I would give her that photo back of us last Christmas. Besides, if I didn't go, she would probably hunt me down and hit me!" Harry said. Sophie Ream was five years younger than Harry was and would be turning seventeen in November. She was quite taken with Harry that first summer they met a few years ago and they became friends.

"Yeah, she would, wouldn't she?" Dave said, laughing. Harry chuckled along with him while walking to the door. Hermione and Ron were first out and said goodbye to Dave from the hall. Ginny hugged the muggle man and kissed him lightly on the cheek before backing away. Harry shook Dave's hand and wished him luck. As Harry was walking down the hall, he felt Dave's dark eyes staring into the back of his head the whole way. Some things would never change.

They entered the full heat of the day outside and worked a few paces down the street before calling for another cab. They got it to take them back to the small pub that only they could see and paid him another eleven pounds. Harry was grateful he had saved enough muggle money in his pockets to pay for their trip otherwise, they'd be stuck.

They waited for the taxicab to turn around the corner before entering the magically hidden pub. The same people were seated around each table as the last time they entered but this time they stopped at the bar.

"Hey, Tom, could I get four Butterbeers thanks?" asked Harry at the front table while the others found a secluded spot near the back. Tom, the old innkeeper appeared. He looked odder then ever but he still got the same awed look on his face when he recognized the person who called him.

"Harry? Harry Potter?" he stammered, wiping his glasses on his dirty apron. Harry grinned. "The one and only, Tom. How much will that cost?" Harry asked, pulling out his moneybag. The innkeeper seemed to regain his speech.

"What? Oh, there is no need, Mr Potter, it's on me. It's the minimum I could do to repay you for what you've given us all!" said the grey haired man, filling up four large mugs of steaming Butterbeer and giving them to Harry.

"Erm, okay, thanks…" Harry said, loosing his smile while walking back to his seat.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Hermione as soon as he passed out the drinks. "Nothing," he answered automatically. The others only stared at him disbelieving. He sighed. "Fine. Everyone's acting different around me, like I'm some kind of hero who they should all worship or something!" he said. Ron just laughed while Hermione and Ginny smirked. Harry's patience was wearing thin.

"What?" he demanded. "Well, mate, you are!" Ron said. Harry just stared at him. "I am not!" he said loudly. Half the room turned to look at him before Harry waved them away.

"Ah, yes you are, Harry. You defeated Voldemort and practically saved the whole world. You are a hero in need of worshipping." Said Ginny softly. Harry just stared at her then shook his head. "Mental, the whole lot of you. I may have defeated Voldemort but I was just-!"

"-lucky?" answered the three in unison. Harry just nodded. "Exactly."

"Harry," said Hermione. "You said you were just lucky when you stopped Quirrel from giving Voldemort the stone. You said it was a fluke that you were able to kill the Basilisk and save Ginny from Tom Riddle's memory. You said you were just lucky to escape Voldemort in fourth year form the graveyard. Face it, you were not just _lucky_. You are good. You are the hero and the defender who helps everyone and defends from evil. That's just who you are, you can't stop yourself from doing what you're meant to do. And you can't tell people otherwise, or yourself for that matter!" Harry was just staring at her, mouth open and eyes wide. Ginny and Ron were laughing now, while the two remained eye locked. Then Harry just shook his head.

"Have I ever told you you're too smart for your own good?" he said. Hermione just grinned. "Hmm, maybe once or twice every day since third year!" They all laughed gaining the whole attention of the pub. They spent around an hour just sitting in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, sipping their drinks and sharing memories.

After his third Butterbeer, Harry was feeling immensely happy. "I forgot how good this tasted!" he said, gulping down the rest of the steaming drink. Hermione nodded her approval.

"I think we should get back now, mum's probably worried. She's only had you back for a day and she's afraid she'll loose you again!" said Ron, finishing his fifth drink.

"Yeah, probably," said Harry, helping Ginny to her feet. The group of friends exited the pub, blinking rapidly in the sudden burst of light. Hermione tapped the appropriate bricks above the trashcan and they watched the portal open for them to enter through. They joined the queue for the Disapparation Point and soon it was Harry's turn to go. He stepped up and pulled out his wand. A flick later sent him being pulled forcibly through the air, with the sound of rushing wind blearing in his ears. As he landed at his destination with a deafening _crack_, the sound being the air being split by his presence, he immediately noticed something that sent his stomach hurtling into his throat.

A banner was hung across the ceiling reading the words: _Welcome Home, Harry._

And beneath it stood all the members of the Order of the Phoenix, plus the entire Weasley Family, minus Percy and Charlie, Fleur Delacour was there next to Bill, looking quite large with her pregnancy; and behind them all, looming about a meter above everyone's heads, were Hagrid and Madam Maxime. The half-giant beetle black eyes were brimming with tears as he pushed passed everyone in front of him and picked Harry off his feet into a massive hug. His breath was taken from his lungs and it felt like his spine was about to snap. Finally, Hagrid placed his feet back on the ground, where they wobbled threateningly. He staggered a bit before being steadied by Hagrid.

They were all grinning at him; all happy and smiling; it was like old times. Emotions were pulling at his heart and tears were burning behind his eyes. There were three loud _cracks_ and three more faces were standing before the crowd of glowing people. Hermione and Ron were smiling hectically, and Hermione was crying freely, her salty tears dripping from her lips.

Ginny stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. When she stepped back, her face was red. Harry was too numb to move little lone speak. She grinned at him.

"Welcome home, Harry!"

…………………

**_Hey everyone! _**

**_This one was my longest yet. The next one should be up soon, if not all ready!_** **_Please review and tell me what you think! Luv ya's!_**

_**Peace Out**_

_**DW**_


	12. Under the MoonLit Sky

**Under the Moon-Lit Sky**

"What-where-how-?" Harry spluttered gaining a few chuckles of laughter. Composing himself, Harry asked, "When did you do this?" Ginny just smiled and pointed to her mum.

"Just blame her. She was in the fire the moment she got up this morning and again when we left for London. She contacted everyone, and I mean everyone! Almost every person she talked to agreed to come. And this is only half of the people coming. The others couldn't make it til a bit later!" she said, laughing at the shocked expression on Harry's face. A second passed when it happened. All the people in front of him made to move forward at once, to either shake his hand, hug him or attempt to talk to him. In result, Harry was almost suffocated by Hagrid, who stepped back to avoid being trampled a feat almost impossible. Harry had to be rescued from Hagrid's mouldy over-coat by Ginny who quickly pulled him clear of the rampaging order members and old friends.

Once out of the way, the two watched the crowd look for the emerald eyed boy. Harry was still in shock and he had to close his mouth on more than one occasion when it opened on its own accord. Suddenly, through the top of the mob, Charlie Weasley stuck his head up.

"Hey, where'd Harry go?" he said. The crowd stopped walking in circles and separated, revealing Ron who was sitting on the floor looking very scared. He looked up to see everyone staring at him so he quickly stood up, his face flaming red.

"What? You lot almost squashed me to death! I had to sit on the floor to stay alive!" Harry laughed and almost regretted it as soon as he did. All the eyes turned to him and all the feet made a step forward.

"Wait!" He began before the crowd swarmed in. Someone was gripping his shoulders while something wet was touching his hand. Another hand was stroking his hair. He couldn't move from all the bodies pressed against him. He was scared he was to be suffocated by all his friends when he finally returned. Then it became much clearer. He could see all the people below him and count the many Weasley's by their hair. His own head was brushing the ceiling. He gripped Hagrid's shoulder a little tighter. The half-giant was trying to push through the milling people but had only gone a step when someone yelped from beneath the trampling footsteps. Hagrid bent down, placed his hand between Bill Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks, and pulled Ron up by the scruff of his collar. The redhead was looking quite ruffled but thanked Hagrid immensely.

Just when Harry was enjoying the show, someone looked up and shouted when they spotted Harry. All the heads turned up to look at him on Hagrid's shoulder. He waved nervously and held his hand up to stop them pulling the half-giant down.

"Stop!" he said loudly, gaining silence. "How about we do this civilly?"

"I agree!" shouted a familiar voice from beneath the crowd of magical people. So began the parting of the witches and wizards. They allowed Hagrid, Harry and Ron path to the half-squashed sofa. Once Harry was on the ground, he pulled out his wand. Many people gasped and moved back a few steps. This only added to Harry's confusion. He pointed his and at himself and said a few choice words.

"There," he said. "Now no one can touch me without being shocked!" There were many anguished looks but more humorous ones. So Harry sank down into the sofa and grinned. "Now, one at a time," As expected, all of them wanted to talk first. Ron, Ginny and Hermione sat down next to him, with Ron on the floor, leaning against the armrest. Hermione whistled loudly, getting silence.

"Don't you people now what 'one at a time' means?" she said shaking her head. "Tonks, you go first," Nymphadora Tonks stepped forward, her hair a short pink with bright green eyes like Harry's.

"Wotcher, Harry!" She said grinning. "Hey, Tonks," Harry said.

"So, where the hell have you been?" There were many shouts of agreement at this. Harry just smiled. "I was staying in an apartment in London!"

"But we looked in London, in every building and even did a magic search!" said Elphias Doge loudly. Harry just shook his head. I didn't use magic at all in the last five years; I've been living with a muggle as a muggle." There were cries of surprise and shock.

"You didn't use magic?"

"How did you survive?"

"How did you do everything?"

Harry held up his hand, laughing. "I said one at a time!"

"Why did you leave?" asked a small voice in the back. He had feared this question. He glanced quickly at Hermione and Ron but they were looking at the floor. He turned back to face the crowd.

"I left because-I felt I needed to…" he trailed off, hanging his head. He couldn't blame his leaving on Hermione and Ron. It was his own fault for locking them away, even though in doing it, it kept them safe. They seemed to sense his distress as another person asked him what he was going to do now he was back.

"I'm not sure. The only reason I'm back even now is Ginny, and I'm still not sure why I'm here exactly." Harry said. Many people shared glances at this.

"You mean, no one has told you?" said Tonks softly even though it seemed so loud in the room. Harry shook his head slowly. "I've heard about the Death Eaters stirring things up again, if that's what you mean?"

"The Death Eaters are the least of our troubles now," said a deep voice in the middle of the crowd. People parted to allow a scarred, grey haired old man through. The clunk of his wooden leg brought more memories to Harry's mind.

"Hi, Moody," Harry said to the ex-Auror. Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody looked across to Harry with his eyes; the magical and normal. "Potter," he said in greeting. "What do you mean, why aren't the Death Eaters the worst of our troubles?"

"This isn't the time or place for talk like this," said Molly Weasley from the entrance to the kitchen. "I have made everyone a late lunch; you can all eat it outside!" There were many replies of "Yes, Molly!" and soon the Lounge Room was bare except for Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny. The four were caught in silence only interrupted by Tonks' ringing voice of, "Where's the Golden Boy?" Harry sighed and looked to his friends. They all truly smiled, the first time, being together. Ron's stomach growled loudly making them all laugh.

"How about we get some food?" asked Hermione. "You took the words right out of my mouth!" said Ron, springing to his feet and quickly disappearing from the room. The angry cries of, "Ron, you don't need that many bread rolls!" came ringing through the house. Hermione smiled and stood as well.

"I better go sort that out," she said, following Ron's example. That left only Harry and Ginny alone in the room, sitting side by side on the sofa. Ginny was watching Harry from the corner of her eye, as Harry was from his position. The silence was comfortable, shared by two people lost in their own thoughts. Harry was remembering all the faces of people who came to see him home. Those who were connected to him in some way, through the passed War or through a friendship and family. Harry treasured that sort of thing. It was too precious a thing to loose again; he had learnt that through his mistakes. At the same instant, both Harry and Ginny turned to each other. Harry stood and lowered his hand for Ginny. She smiled radiantly and took it allowing him to pull her up.

"Shall we go get something to eat?" Harry said to her. She nodded and clung tighter to his hand. "Yes, lets." So the two of them strolled through the house, not once speaking a word, afraid to loose what they had gained.

………………

"So, Harry, are you planning on visiting some of your old friends?" asked Hestia Jones during lunch. Mrs Weasley had gone overboard with all the food. She had made a wide range of dishes, ranging from chicken wings to sausages, potato chips to even a few mint humbugs. At the sight of these small treats, an image of Albus Dumbledore popped into his mind, but Harry banished it away, wanting to remember this day as one full of fun and laughter.

"I'm not sure. I'm going looking for Remus tomorrow; I don't care how long it takes. Then I might go see Luna and Neville, depends," he said, chewing on a strip of roast chicken. "There's no need to go see Luna, as she's here to see you," said Ginny. Harry turned around quickly and stood up. Luna Lovegood was standing at the end of the table, smiling broadly, her bright blue eyes glittering in the sunlight.

"Luna!" Harry said, walking quickly to her and wrapping her in a tight hug. He felt the blond-haired witch return his embrace. When he pulled away, her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"Hello, Harry, I expected you back," she said in her dreamy voice. "How did you know I was here?" Harry said amazed. She smiled, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Ginny called me this morning and said to come here at this time. She mentioned something about a surprise and I figured it must be you!" Harry was shocked that Luna was here to see him, as much as he was to see all the others. "Then come eat something and tell me what you've been up to since I last saw you!" Harry said, directing her to an empty chair beside his own. Once they were comfortable, Luna begun to tell Harry how she had inherited her father's newspaper and now ran that and an animal shelter down in the village. She explained how her last year at Hogwarts had been without him there, and what it felt like for her in the final battle. When Voldemort had attacked the school, she had been in Divination with the NEWT level class. She told of Professor Trelawney's warning before the attack had started, that alerted them to the danger so they were able to set thew alarm in the castle.

She had been one of the ones allowed to fight outside of the castle, as Harry was not able to place the Boundary Charm on the castle before she was already in the grounds, fighting.

In the battle, she had used her Duelling skills to incapacitate many Death Eater's and Dark Creatures before she was almost killed by a fatal spell by Bellatrix Lestrange. The thought of that particular woman still made Harry's blood boil. She had been one of the few Death Eaters to escape the clutches of the Minister. She was still on the loose to this day, but no one knew where she was.

"I'm just glad you back now, Harry," said Luna, picking at one of the mint humbugs.

"So am I, Luna. So am I" Harry answered, feeling the happiest he had felt in many years.

"Hey, stop hogging Harry!" shouted someone from the other end of the table causing an outbreak of laughter. "So what have you been doing with yourself?" Luna asked him. He filled her in on his life as a muggle for the past five years, making her smile broadly.

"To live a life from magic and the ones you love is not a life worth living," she said dreamily. Harry just nodded slowly, having forgotten how 'loony' Luna was. The afternoon soon progressed to night and with it came the arrival of many old and familiar faces. The swarm of people piled into the backyard and sort Harry out beneath a tall tree chatting to Mr Weasley.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan both had changed immensely. Dean was working in the Magical Games and Sports Department in the Ministry while Seamus was in the Magical Law Enforcement as a Field Worker. Neville Longbottom came as well and surprised Harry with a small gift. The boy was no longer short and chubby. He was a tall, well-built man and had really come into himself. With him, he brought his grandmother, looking as old as ever, and a couple being pushed in wheelchairs; Alice and Frank Longbottom; his parents. Both were looking better than the last time Harry had seen them, more than better actually. They now could talk quite clearly but had trouble remembering some things and speaking many syllable words.

Harry took the small box with shaking hands. "Mate, what's this for?" Harry asked, looking into Neville's changed face. Harry's old friend just smiled and ran a hand through his short brown hair. "I bought it ages ago as a thank you present for saving me on _that day_ and I was going to send it to you. But each time I sent it off with an owl, it returned almost immediately. It's been sitting in my room for years and now I've finally given it to you. Go on, open it!" Neville said, egging him on. Harry smiled and looked down to the small bow. He took of the lid and pulled out a silver chain with a pendant hanging on the end.

"It's meant to be the symbol for a defender or hero," said the boy. Harry took the chain in his hands and admired the ruby encrusted silver winged lion with awe. "It's brilliant, Neville, thanks!" Harry said, clipping the chain around his neck. Neville blushed slightly but overcame it quickly as he introduced his parents.

"Mum, dad, this is Harry Potter, do you remember me telling you about him?" Neville said, indicating to Harry. Both his parents looked up at Harry, and he stared back into their eyes. They had been tortured to insanity almost twenty-one years ago just after Harry had defeated Voldemort for the first time. Death Eaters had tried to gain information from them, about the where-abouts of the Dark Lord after he had lost his powers. They had been placed on the Cruciatus Curse for a large amount of time and suffered through endless pain. As Harry looked at them, he felt a strange feeling grow inside him. One of pride and joy. Alice and Frank Longbottom should never have had to suffer through that torture and Neville should not have had to live without his parents for so long. In Harry's eyes, they were the heroes. The true heroes from the first war.

"Nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Longbottom," Harry said, bowing slightly. Instead of a welcoming _hello_, both Neville's parents were staring at him. Alice Longbottom suddenly shot out with her hands and clasped Harry's own. Tears were shining in her eyes and a smile was gracing her young face.

"You look just like you father!" she whispered. Then there was silence. Both Neville and his grandmother were still and Harry was speechless. She had remembered what James Potter looked like after so many years without her proper mind. But that was not all. She spoke again. "But you have Lily's eyes. Such beautiful eyes…"

Neville's mouth was hanging open and his eyes wide. His grandmother rushed forward and knelt down beside Harry, her old eyes full of amazement.

"Alice, honey, do you remember anything else?" she asked, her voice a soft croak and her eyes shining with glistening tears. Alice Longbottom looked deeply into Harry's eyes and smiled. "And you are her son, Harry, how she loved you. And James, James would love to see you now…" she said.

Harry did not know what to say. "I-thank you!" he stammered, letting go of her warm hand and letting Neville take his place. Their eyes remained connected as Harry backed away. When he finally looked away, an odd feeling was pulling at his heart.

"Harry!" a female voice squealed. He turned in time to see a head of raven hair before the girl was hugging him around the middle. When she pulled away, Harry recognised the beautiful face of Cho Chang.

"Hi, Cho, I didn't know you would be here!" Harry said amazed.

"I wouldn't miss seeing you again for the world!" she said, her voice as sweet as honey. Harry grinned and was about to ask how her life had turned out when he felt something tugging at his hand. He looked down into the face of a small girl. She had long, dark hair and a pair of deep brown eyes. She reminded Harry of someone but he couldn't think of whom.

"Are you _really_ Harry Potter? Mummy has told me lots and lots of stories about you!" she said in a small voice. Harry knelt down to her level and smiled.

"Has she? And who would your mummy be?" he asked. The small girl pointed over his shoulder. Harry turned to see only Cho. He picked the small girl up and went back to Cho.

"Does this little one belong to you?" he asked her. Cho smiled radiantly and took the small girl from him. "She sure does. This is Melody, Melody, this is Harry,"

"Hello, Melody!" Harry said to his old crush's daughter. Melody waved at him before wriggling out of her mother's arms and disappearing back into the crowd of people.

"She's a gorgeous little girl," Harry said truthfully.

"I know," Cho said, smiling again. "Just like her father," she said.

"And may I ask who that would be?" Harry asked. Cho pointed through the crowd to a tall man, now holding Melody. "That's Eddie Wilson, my husband of three years." Cho answered softly.

"Congratulations!" Harry said. "Well, I better let you get back to your other guests, so I will see you later, okay?" she said, looking into his eyes with her dark pools. Harry nodded. "Definitely!"

The night progressed a little too quickly for Harry's tastes. Through the night, he met up with many of his old friends, including Fleur and Bill who told him they were going to have a girl and name her Lily if it was all right with him. Harry was speechless but they understood all the same. He met up with Madam Maxime and talked to Hagrid some more. They told him that their children were back at the castle being babysat by Minerva McGonagall who was still as strict as ever and was sure to put the two half-giants in line. Harry chatted to Padma and Parvarti Patil, who were still pretty as ever. Padma now worked as a Journalist for the _Daily Prophet_ while Parvarti was currently working in the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries. They both welcomed him back with glittering smiles and tight hugs. Harry also met with Lavender who had opened her own Divination shop in Hogsmeade called _Tealeaves and Talons_.

Fred and George made their appearance known at around nine o'clock by sending off a variety of their fireworks. The night sky was lit up with brilliant colours and patterns. The twins greeted Harry like long-lost brothers, by faking a full-out teary session in the middle of the crowd and bawling their eyes out at Harry's feet.

By the time midnight arrived, everyone had left, promising to keep in touch. It was only the Weasley Family, Hermione, Harry and a couple of order members left. Mr and Mrs Weasley were talking to Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt in the Lounge Room. The twins had left moments before to go back to their apartment saying they would be back the next day with more _surprises_. Bill and Fleur had travelled back to their home in Scotland while Charlie's snores could be heard form the upstairs window. Hermione and Ron were sitting beneath an old oak tree on a swinging bench, just talking.

Meanwhile, Harry was walking under the stars along the well-known path in the woods. He was just listening to the owls hooting in the night and the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees above his head. The water in the stream could be heard in the clearing up ahead. Harry was just reaching the trickling river when he caught the soft footsteps of someone following him. He flipped his wand out into his hand while whipping around to face his follower. He came face to face with a very startled Ginny Weasley. Harry lowered his wand and watched as Ginny smiled. The moonlight caught her frame as she moved with him to the tree on the shore. There, the two sat like old friends.

"You looked like you had a good time tonight, Harry," she said, her voice carrying on the soft breeze.

"I did. I can't thank you enough for doing this for me. It is so great to see and talk to everyone again. Just being back here makes me feel alive again. I can practically feel the magic wavering in the air. It's just so welcoming and makes me feel home!" Harry said grinning. He felt Ginny shift closer to him with their backs against the tree trunk.

"You will always have a home here, Harry," she said, her beautiful voice making butterflies flutter in his stomach. He could feel the heat from her body radiate onto his skin. He twitched his hand slightly to feel the skin of her knee beneath his fingertips. He turned his head and looked at Ginny beside him. The moonlight was playing across her hair make it seem like a majestic halo framing the face of an angel. He sat enchanted by her eyes as she stared up at the sky above them. Then she turned her gaze to him and their eyes caught. And as the moonlight played across their forms and the running water played the soundtrack of the night, the two leant in at the same moment.

Their lips touched and they shared their first kiss; with the moon the witness and the stars the many eyes of those passed, smiling down upon the couple caught in an enchantment of love.

………………………

**_How was that one? I wanted to make Harry and Ginny's first kiss romantic but not overly so. I didn't want to ruin the moment. I have tried to get this chapter out as soon as I could because I promised you all that when I reached one hundred reviews I would post two chapters. Therefore, here is the second one and I'm not sure, when the next chapter will be out because I have exams this week and have to work. I hate year ten!_**

_**Peace Out**_

_**DW**_


	13. Bitter Sweet Truth

**Bitter Sweet Truth**

Harry awoke to the flaming curls of Ginny's hair. The sunlight played across her face like an intricate blanket, velvety and ever warm. She shifted slightly and squeezed tighter to his side. The leaves on the earth were soft; little could be said for the hard ground. Harry's leg was numb from the way he slept on it and his neck was slightly stiff from leaning against the tree trunk. Ginny's delicate head was perched on his chest, her arm wrapped around his stomach and her legs draped across his own.

The heat from her body made him tired once more but also comforted. He had never been this close to someone he truly loved before. Because that is, what he felt. He had been feeling it for the past month now; a tiny tugging of his heart and a fluttering in his stomach whenever Ginny touched him or a warm feeling when she smiled at him. Now that he thought about it, he had similar feelings back in Hogwarts. But not as strong. He knew they were there but didn't understand what they meant. Now he did.

He _loved_ Ginny. Unlike the love he had for Hermione, because he _loved_ her but was not _in love_ with her. If that at all made sense. The feelings he felt for Ginny were completely unnatural to him. Just being this close to her evoked a strange sense of calm and serenity. For a fleeting moment, he thought of spending the rest of his life with her. Just the thought of that made a large grin spread across his face.

She shifted slightly and rested her head lower down, upon his lap. Harry struggled to overcome the tingling feelings spreading through his body. He was able to ignore her presence when he thought about Dolores Umbridge; the toad-like woman who taught his fifth-year Defence Against the Dark Arts class, but thinking about her made anger grow in him. He chanced a glance down at the sleeping girl.

She truly was beautiful. Her radiant red locks framed an angelic face, full of cute freckles and young beauty. Her creamy shoulders lay exposed, as her shirt had been pushed down slightly in her sleep. Harry's cloak was draped over her middle and his legs. Their heat kept them warm and feeling secure. Harry continued to watch her sleep, while listening to the birds begin to sing songs of happiness and summertime.

It was sometime later when Ginny finally decided to wake. She opened her hazel eyes to meet Harry's emerald. She seemed startled at first but then relaxed, sinking back down onto his body.

"Good morning," she said yawning. Harry smiled. "Morning, sleep well?" he asked. She looked up at him and smiled brilliantly. Harry sat enchanted by her glittering smile and soft lips. In an action, both slow and calm, Harry leant down and connected her lips with his. They remained like that for a few moments, just enjoying the feel of their bodies connected, before Harry pulled away. Ginny had her eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Then she smiled and opened her eyes.

"I could get used to waking up like this!" she said, both of them laughing. "So could I," Harry said, running his hand through her fiery hair. She turned around and leant up against him, her head resting against his shoulder his legs on either side of her.

"It's so beautiful out here," she said after a few minutes of silence. Harry kept his eyes on her and answered, "Yes, it is," Ginny tilted her head up and laughed. She then lifted her hand and brought his mouth down to meet their lips once more. She shifted her position again, so she was sitting on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck while his hands were placed on her back. So there, beneath the singing birds and soft rustling leaves, the boy-who-lived and his saviour sat in the light from the rising sun, kissing intimately and returning each of their love.

………………

The sun was half way to reaching the middle of the sky when the two made their way back through the trees. They followed the same path they trod last night, but this time, they were together and content with the silence surrounding them. Sunlight broke through above their heads as the trees thinned out and the Burrow came into view. Hermione and Ron were sitting on the back steps, both laughing and smiling like old times. Harry felt a twinge of sorrow inside him that he was the cause of them being apart for so long, but it soon was lost when Ginny squeezed his hand a bit tighter.

Hermione and Ron looked up when Harry and Ginny appeared across the lawn, leaves tangle in their hair and dirt rubbed on their clothes. Ron's smile faltered some-what but Hermione was grinning knowingly.

"Have a nice night?" she asked lightly. Harry smiled at her and looked down to Ginny who was smiling up at him. "Sure did," Harry, answered happily. At his words, Ron seemed to snap out of what-ever trance he was in and smiled brightly.

"And where, might I ask, did you two sleep?" he said, feigning anger. Ginny strolled forward and flicked her brother on the nose. "That is none of your business!" she said, laughing at his appalled expression. She disappeared into the house, but not before rushing back and kissing Harry lightly on the lips. She smiled at him before being followed into the house by a gaping Ron. Harry sat down next to Hermione, unable to keep the smile from his face. She was smiling at him. She reached up, and pulled a twig from his hair.

"I'm glad you're happy," she said softly. He smiled at her and grabbed her hand. "And I'm glad you're happy!" She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "We will get through this, won't we?" she asked, staring off towards the forest. He followed her gaze and felt his joy ebb slightly. "I hope so," Harry said. "I hope so."

………………

The day was spent lounging around the Burrow, playing chess or else catching up on old times. Harry was finding it difficult to breathe after Ron had brought up the 'Malfoy' incident in their fourth year, when Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody had changed the blond haired Slytherin into a ferret. The memory brought tears of mirth to all their eyes, even Hermione managed a hearty chuckle.

"So, what has Malfoy been up to anyway?" Harry asked lightly. The others immediately stopped their laughing and their faces grew serious. Harry's smile completely faded, remembering that silence all too well. "What has happened to him?" he asked blankly, watching Ginny's eyes flicker with unknown fear.

"It's not as much as what's _happened _to him, but what _is_ _happening_ with him," Hermione said cryptically, looking around the room as if trying to find hidden spy objects. "And that is supposed to mean…" Harry said, trying to draw information out of the trio. Ron was scratching something off the table while Ginny was biting her bottom lip.

"Are you going to tell me or do I have to suffer through another round of _'lets not tell Harry'_?" he said sarcastically, staring at Ron with blazing eyes. Ginny finally looked him in the eyes and said, "Something need to be brought out in the open," Her gaze turned to Hermione who was looking pale and Ron who was acting like a spider had crawled on his leg.

"Well?" Harry said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. His movements did not go unwatched by Ginny, as she shortly lost her words.

"Well, erm…yes, Hermione?" she said pleadingly, turning to the older witch with wide eyes. Hermione smiled slightly, her eyes briefly glittering.

"Where to start?" she said, biting her nail. "Okay, with the beginning. Shortly after you defeated Voldemort, the Aurors rounded up any Death Eaters they could find, on the Minister's orders. But after only around a year, he released them claiming 'without the Dark Lord, there are no Death Eaters," what a loud of rubbish it was. So, everything quietened down for a while, but that was before it started again." Hermione paused here for dramatic effect, before continuing.

"It started in Wales, a few deaths here, a few disappearances there. No one seemed to pay much attention. Then it came to Britain. Many Ministry Representatives vanished, leaving a questionable hole in their spot. There was outrage at the Ministry and Arthur struggled to keep it in control. Aurors were sent to investigate certain murders or disappearance and when no clues were found, people began to fret. They thought it was Voldemort back again and we tried to calm them down stating that it could not be Voldemort because you killed him. Then after that was said there was even more uproar at where you had gone and if you even cared if more people were dying," at these words Harry made to stand but at a silent gesture from Ginny, contained himself.

"This all happened around the beginning of last year, when I was still teaching at Beauxbatons-!"

"How come you aren't at Beauxbatons now?" Harry blurted. Hermione smiled. "Vacation. Anyway, I got wind of the disappearances and such and my thoughts immediately turned to Voldemort. The style was the same and the link between the victims was that they were all mudbloods or half bloods, another of Voldemort's traits. I heard that Arthur was struggling with figuring out what was happening and I was beginning to think it really _was _Voldemort back.

"At the moment, there has been Death Eater activity running all through Britain, with someone leading them. This person is striking harder than Voldemort ever did and his strikes seem pointless. No one seems to know who he is or what his motive is. It's as if he's a Voldemort copycat, but taking things a bit more brutally. I did not know Ginny was searching for you, and I'm not sure what I would have done back then if I _did_ know. But, when I think about it now, it makes sense. You were the one to take down Voldemort in the Second War and the only one to stop the constant attacks. The public needs someone they can rely on and look up to, before it was Dumbledore, and now it is you. It has always been you." She ended, looking into his eyes with a glassy look. Harry did not know what to do.

"I'm not, and never will be, Albus Dumbledore!" he said loudly, getting Hermione to jump at his sudden outburst. "I never said you were!" she said softly.

"I know, but the way you said that makes me think I'm bound to be the only one able to stop this new wave of terror, and the only one capable of getting the world to calm down!" he said humorously. The others looked at him blankly, Ron with a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeh, that's the idea!" he said. Harry gaped at them. "But how am I supposed to do that?" Harry hissed nervously. Ginny grinned. "With our help of course!" she said brightly, turning the mood around.

"But I don't want publicity, I never have!" he tried to defend himself. Ginny laughed. "We know, but that's about to change!"

"I don't like the look of that smile," Harry said fearfully, eyeing the sly grin tugging at his girlfriends lips. _Oh, god, how I don't like the look of that smile!_ Harry thought suddenly, thinking off running for it through the open back door. But it was too late, Hermione had also adopted that sinister smile and Harry was beginning to feel scared. He looked to Ron for help to find the redhead had retreated back in his chair a fearful look on his face as well.

"Don't look at me! But you should see your face, you look like you're back in the Shrieking Shack, staring the werewolf straight in the eye!" said Ron, laughing at Harry's expense. Harry briefly glared at Ron and was about to shoot a retort back at him when suddenly something popped into his head. And finally, it all made sense. He quickly stood up from his seat, his eyes wide in understanding and mouth open in nerves and excitement. His friends looked at him in concern, the girls' frightening smiles vanishing.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Ginny standing as well. Harry looked at her and shut his mouth. "Nothing anymore, if what I've just figured out is true, then I will be the happiest man alive!" he said, grabbing his cloak off the coat hook and looking back to his friends.

"I should be back before morning!" He said quickly, but seeing the disappointed look on Ginny's face made his stomach churn. He walked over to her and looked into her eyes. "Don't worry!" He said, kissing her deeply. When he pulled away, she was staring at him, shocked. Harry smiled encouragingly and pulled out his wand. The other's eyes it warily before he just grinned and pointed it at himself.

"Wish me luck!" he said before vanishing with a loud _crack_.

……………………

The night was growing darker. The moon was a pale gibbous, glowing as if a crystal ball caught in the universe with the many stars and burning planets around it, floating suspended in nothingness. He watched it with a wry gaze. It would be full tomorrow night and he could all ready feel the wolf inside him, struggling to be released. He shuddered in the cold wind biting into his flesh.

Still, he stayed out in the night, savouring the moment he was a human and not the dangerous creature, lurking in his mind, waiting for the moment to spring loose and take control of the body they shared.

Clouds briefly obscured the growing light of the moon and he looked about in the darkened shadows. He listened for any presences in the dark, waiting for the appearance of the visions sure to come. They visited him regularly. His friends. His old friends. Taunting him from places, he could not go, from places he was scared to venture. They had all left him, for why, he did not know.

One after the other, they had left him, taking a piece of himself with them to that place beyond the stars. First, it was James, his dear brother and friend. The mighty Prongs, never again to grace the lands with his magnificent form, his soul and body ripped from him; and with him, he took a part of his heart, never again to be replaced.

Then Sirius was taken from him, accused of killing James and sentenced to life in Azkaban. It would have been better if he had died. Then he would not have suffered through the endless days of the Dementors powers killing him slowly. But then he was returned to him, wasted but still the same Sirius he was so used to. He had just gotten used to having him back and apart of his heart restored, when he was ripped from him. His last brother was taken. And the remainder of his sane side fled from him.

There was one other that caused his pain to double inside him. One more person he used to call _friend_. Peter Pettigrew had betrayed his only friends and joined the Dark Side to become a murderer and traitor. How he hated that rat of a man with beyond belief. He was the reason he had no other brothers and no life long friends. Wormtail had taken them from him and he could never forgive him for that. Not as long as he lived.

After Sirius had died, there left only one other that made him carry on. This person was able to bring him out of impending doom even when he was being destroyed inside. Harry, James' only son, had saved him. The boy was so determined to help him that he ignored his own pain that was tearing him inside. The two of them had helped each other cope with their losses and their strength had grown to overcome their own demons. But now, that was not the case. Harry, too, had left him. Like the way the sun fades and the moon rises, Harry had vanished.

And the remainder of his heart was taken. The wolf inside him was now the only part of his soul that lived on. So, atop the grassy hill, Remus Lupin looked up at the moon and smiled wryly. How he hated the moon.

There was a loud _crack_ in the distance, coming from behind the old shack to his side. This worn house had become Remus's home over the years. With the boarded windows and smashed front door, every part of it contained memories that just sat beyond the vision. So Remus had stayed within the crumbling walls, trying to gain what was lost, to no avail.

A shadow appeared beneath a tall, oak tree. Remus turned to it and chuckled mechanically.

"Back again, old friend?" he spoke, his voice hoarse and cracked with misuse. The figure beneath the leaves stirred ever so slightly. "Oh, so you're shy tonight, huh?" he said. Remus knew this was Sirius, back again to haunt him from the grave. He came every night to blame him for his or James's death. And every night, Remus believed him.

From the shadows, the figure stepped forward, his hair framing a thin face. The absence of glasses made Remus so sure it was Sirius Black that he did not pay attention to the strange green glint sparkling in the man's eyes.

"And have you come back to taunt me with your unseeing eyes and bite at me with your foul words. Oh, yes, I remember your face old friend and you know how much I wish to see it in reality once more!" Remus spat, closing in on the silent form drenched in shadows.

"What? No words to stir my mind or no visions to play with my emotions? Do you not want to tease me and dare me to follow you beneath the ground, where you will torture me with the sight of you?" he snarled stopping before the towering tree and waiting for the memory to speak. But, the figure was silent as he stepped into the moonlight and Remus Lupin caught his eyes. Those bright emerald eyes that only two people could have. One was Lily, the beautiful woman he grew to love and the other was her son, Harry. But Lily was dead; she was another to be killed from actions brought on by Wormtail. And Harry was gone, vanished after he defeated the Dark Lord. But here he stood, as clear as the tears running down his cheeks.

"Are you another vision to scare me and cause me pain?" he whispered, stepping closer to the boy he wanted so much to see. Harry Potter spoke then, with a voice so much like his fathers.

"I'm not a vision, Moony," he said into the night, causing Remus to weaken at the sound of his nickname. "And I would rather die before hurting you anymore!" he said. And that finalised it. Remus collapsed to the wet dirt and let of a bone-chilling sob, that was only matched by Harry's falling tears.

…………………

_**Hey people, how was that reunion? I'm not sure if it came out very clearly as I was very determined to get this out! I've been waiting for ages to write Remus back in and now he's here! Yay! But beware, there are sure to be some scenes involving Remus and Harry talking that may be quite saddening! So keep a tissue handy, and chow!**_

_**DW**_


	14. Werewolf Tears

**Werewolf Tears**

Harry did not know what to do. The man who he had come to call a father, was kneeling at his feet, broken and crying. He felt his own emotions tugging at his heart, aching to be released. His eyes were burning with tears he wished to release. Remus silently cried on the damp ground, the moon shining down from above. Harry knelt down with his old friend and pulled him into a tight embrace. He tensed at first but soon sank into Harry's arms, letting go of his pain.

Tears were now falling from his own eyes. They trickled down his cheeks and dripped to land on Remus Lupin's worn over coat. Harry smelt stale liquor coming from the man but thought nothing of it as he tried to help his old professor stand. Remus was shaking now, his scarred face shining with salty tears.

"Come on, Moony, lets go inside," Harry murmured, guiding Remus back towards the Shrieking Shack. Harry was amazed at how Lupin was able to live in the old house for so many years. The walls were dirty and spotted with muck; some were partially collapsed, as was the ceiling. All the furniture had been destroyed by the werewolf, bits of wood and material were scattered everywhere. A thick layer of dust covered the floor, with a single track leading straight for the rickety stairs.

Harry struggled to keep the man up and walking, as he directed him to the staircase. They almost fell backwards twice on the way up to the second floor. Lupin had stopped crying but seemed confused to where he was. Harry was sure that he was slightly drunk as Remus stumbled on his feet and swayed to the side. There was also a dazed look in his light brown eyes as Harry followed the path to the end room.

Remus collapsed onto the single bed when Harry entered the filthy room. It was quite small and he realized, with a start, that it was the same room that Harry had learnt the true tale behind Sirius Black and the Marauders. There was a sturdy looking chair in one corner beside a roughly built wooden desk, which was scattered with pieces of parchment and a few books. Now that Harry looked around again, there was nothing but books in the room. The floor was tiled with them, so it seemed like the floor had been built up an extra two inches all over. There was no space at all, and there were still piles of the books running along the wall.

Harry sat on the chair and jumped when Remus started snoring loudly. He looked to the drunken man and smiled sadly. From the light of a solitary lantern hanging from the ceiling, Harry surveyed his old friend.

Remus's hair, once only specked with grey, was rough and matted, with large patches of grey in places. There were deep hollows beneath his eyes and many lines that marked his forehead. The man was so thin that his clothes hung off him like troll skin. His werewolf transformation must have been taking a lot from him because there were scars over his neck and by the look of it, his arms as well.

Without the Wolfsbane Potion, the wolf inside him took full control at each full moon, and Remus lost all power over his own mind. Harry couldn't comprehend how it felt to be trapped inside your own body without being able to control it.

Tears fell once more from his eyes for his friend that had been through so much. Harry had been so selfish when he left. He didn't even stop to think of whom he was leaving behind. Remus had lost so many people in his life. He had lost his two best friends to the dark forces out there then he had found another friend and perhaps son who he could relate to and confide in. But Harry had left him, as so many others had. Remus had sunk into the darkness of his own mind. He had been rejected so many times in his life for being a werewolf that the first true friends he had found were ripped from him in the worst possible way.

Remus was left alone in a world recovering from the end of a war, a war in which Light had conquered Dark, and in this world, a werewolf was considered dark. So Remus retreated into the only place he felt safe, the only place he could remember his dear friends clearly. The Shrieking Shack was the only place he could remember when all the Marauders had been together, all happy and young. This had been the place where Remus had felt the most accepted. James, Sirius and even Peter Pettigrew, had learnt to become Animagi so he wouldn't be alone in the worst hours of his life. With them, he could become calm and even enjoy becoming a werewolf. They made it a gift, instead of the terrible curse that it was.

But they were all gone. James killed twenty-one years ago with his wife, Lily. Peter turned to the Dark Side and became a traitor on the same night that James Potter was killed, he was the reason James was killed. The sniveling rat of a man was still out there, hiding like the rodent he was. Sirius died when he fell through the veil going on seven years ago, leaving a godson and best friend to mourn his death.

Harry still had nightmares of that day. He could picture Sirius in the Death Room, dueling with his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry could still see the looked of shock on his godfathers once handsome face as his back arched gracefully and he fell backwards into the Veil of Whispers. He could still feel the pain inside him from all those years ago, he could feel the guilt inside him, and even though he had been convinced it was not his fault.

Both Remus and Harry had lost someone they were close to. Remus lost his life-long best friend and with him went his savior from the wolf inside him. Sirius was no longer there to make his curse into a gift. He was left to go through the hours of dark by himself.

Harry had lost is godfather, his guardian and his friend. Sirius had been his last hope of a normal life; but that had been stripped from him. Still, he tied to overcome the darkness threatening to consume him and be brave for Remus, who was slowly letting depression take him. They had stood tall together and tried to put there life back on track without the presence of Sirius. They helped each other through the pain and mourned together. They grew closer and Harry began to see Remus as a father and brother. Remus was seeing Harry as a son and another Marauder.

And when Harry as training to become an Animagus, he was doing it for Remus, so he wouldn't have to be in the darkness alone, so they could run free as all the Marauders once did. But, Harry failed at becoming an Animagus because it was taking to much time from his other, more important training. But they didn't let that ruin the bond they had formed, they continued to train together, with Remus at Hogwarts teaching him extra classes, it had been some of the best times of their lives.

Then the final battle came and Harry left the father he had found after ridding the world of Voldemort. Ron and Hermione had deserted him and he felt like there was no other who would want him. He fled to get away from the nightmares and memories. Harry didn't think of what it would do to Remus.

And it was tearing him up inside looking at his old friend, worn and defeated. Pain was pressing down on him and guilt of another life he had destroyed. Harry placed his head in his hands and let the sorrow consume him.

**WVWVWVW**

Harry awoke some time later, still sitting on the chair with head in his knees. He yawned and ran a hand through his hair looking across to the bed in the corner. And it was empty. Harry jumped up, suddenly frightened. Where had Remus gone?

He walked through the old house, looking in each room as he went. When he reached the bottom floor, he noticed the front door open. He made his way to it and walked out in the soft sunshine of the morning. Clouds were rolling around the sky, blocking most of the light. But it still affected his eyes as he squinted out across the hill.

He could see the small Wizarding town of Hogsmeade below; witches and wizards were walking the streets, having already started their daily shopping. Harry made his way out to the top of the hill and looked across the sea of treetops. The Forbidden Forest loomed as menacing as ever but calmed him and made him feel warm inside knowing Hogwarts was just beyond his sight.

"I see you're awake," spoke a soft yet familiar voice. Harry shot his head around to see Remus standing beneath the same tree he was hidden under last night. In his arms, he carried a paper bag and it looked lie he had just come from Hogsmeade.

"Good morning, Moony," Harry said cautiously, taking in the mans appearance. He looked better than the night before. Color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes were shining. But he still had the dark hollows beneath his eyes and was looking incredibly thin.

"You are looking good," he said, walking into the light. Harry looked down at his dark clothes and ran another hand through his scruffy hair, smiling slightly. "And you look-!" he began before Remus grinned wryly and said, "-like crap," Harry flushed and folded his arms, not knowing what to say.

Remus was watching him with a calm gaze while Harry was staring at the ground. "Look, I'm sorry-!" he began to say, looking up. But Remus was gone. Harry looked around, wondering where he had gone. He walked back inside looking around for his friend. Harry heard some noises coming from around the corner and walked towards it. He found Remus in a broken kitchen, pulling things out of the paper bag.

"Remus, I-!" Harry tried to say again before Lupin turned to him. "Harry, we can talk over breakfast," he said, placing two plates of food on a lopsided table. Harry sighed and nodded, "Okay,"

The two of them sat in the chairs Harry conjured and slowly began to eat their breakfast. But neither felt like eating. Harry was playing with his bread roll, nerves and anticipation causing his hands to fumble. Remus was at least biting and chewing his apple, staring out the window with a blank look on his face.

"Moony, I'm sorry," Harry said, breaking the silence, throwing his food back on the plate. Remus turned his brown gaze to Harry who was looking at him with sad eyes. "What for?" Remus said slowly but Harry could hear the pain behind his words.

"For deserting you after I said I would never leave you! For leaving you alone and being so selfish when I ran! I didn't think of the people I left behind!" Harry blurted, his hand shaking as he placed it over his eyes to hide the tears forming. "And?" Remus said softly. Harry looked at him and noticed Lupin's eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"And I'm sorry for leaving without saying goodbye and not contacting you over all this time. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me and I'm sorry for everything!" he said, his voice cracking with the emotions coursing through him.

"Why did you leave, Harry? Why did you leave everyone behind when you would've been honored for killing Voldemort? Just after you saved the Wizarding world, you vanished! No one knew where you went! We thought you could've been taken by a Death Eater or something! And Ron and Hermione were distraught, they wouldn't say anything!" Remus said, furiously brushing away the tear running from his eye. At every one of Remus's words, Harry felt his heart being pulled through his chest. The guilt was washing over him, just as it did when Sirius died.

"You left everyone, Harry, including me!" he finished, throwing the rest of his apple at the wall. Harry bowed his head. "I didn't ask for you to forgive me," he said softly. There was silence.

"But I do, Harry, because you've come back, even though there are still things we have to sort out, I forgive you for leaving when you said you wouldn't." came the soft and forgiving voice of Remus. Harry raised his head, his eyes glassed with tears. He had never been a crying person, but in the last twenty-four hours, he had cried more tears than he had in the last five years.

"You-you forgive me?" he said, unbelieving. Remus actually smiled at this and this action took ten years from the man's appearance. He suddenly looked like he had before Harry left, before Sirius died. He looked happy.

"Yes, I do," were his words, "But we still have a lot to work out. Like why you left?" he said his brow furrowing. Harry picked up his bread roll and began tearing small pieces from it. There was silence for a while until Harry spoke.

"I left because they wanted me to," he said softly. Harry heard Remus move in his chair but Harry didn't look up and continued to rip up his breakfast. "Who are they?" Remus asked, his voice laced with confusion.

"Hermione and Ron. I locked them away from the fight so they wouldn't get hurt. I couldn't afford to loose them, not when we had come that far together. If I had lost them because of Voldemort after so many years fighting him, I would have died myself. They were my life. If they were taken from me, I would rather Voldemort had killed me and let me be with them again," he said so quietly and painfully that Remus had to lean in to hear him.

"I gather they didn't like being kept away from the battle?"

"They hated it, when I let them out; they shouted at me and told me they would never talk to me again. They said it like they meant it and it tore me up inside. I didn't care if I had just killed Voldemort and saved the entire world. If I didn't have Ron and Hermione by my side, what was the point of celebrating? So I ran away because I couldn't handle being alone. I had always had them by my side when things got tough and that was the toughest tome of my life. I had witnessed Dumbledore get killed-and it-it was the worst time of my life after seeing Sirius fall through the veil. I saw the twinkle fade from his eyes and I could see the satisfaction and joy in Voldemort's eyes after he was dead.

"I lost it. I had already watched so many people die that day and watched lives being destroyed. The pain I felt and the sorrow that so many deaths brought would've taken me down. The only reason I kept on fighting was for all the people around me and for Ron and Hermione. If I fell, so would they. I had to destroy Voldemort because he had taken so much from me and I wasn't going to let him take the two things that meant so much to me. So I killed Voldemort with Gryffindor's Sword for them. So they could live without the threat of someone trying to kill them for being my friend.

"And when they yelled at me with all the anger they had and all the force they had built up, I knew I couldn't live in the Wizarding World without them there with me. I left, without thinking of anyone else I would leave behind." Harry said, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from his stomach. Remus was watching him with that calm brown gaze and a soft smile on his lips.

"They reacted the same way you would have. You know what it feels like to be kept away from the fight to be stopped from fighting what you believed in. They wanted to fight by your side and help with the battle. Anyone would hate being kept inside while people were outside dying in the war they should be fighting it," the man said after some thought. Harry knew he was right. He should never have locked Hermione, Ron and Ginny inside while mostly everyone else was fighting. It had been a selfish thing to do but at least they survived.

"I have already apologized to them a million times and they shouldn't have forgiven me but they did. Just like you have done," Harry said sadly. Remus could tell that by the way Harry had said it, that it meant the world to him that he had his friends and family back. He could see it in his emerald eyes that he was relieved he was accepted back so willingly. Remus smiled.

"You are a very forgiving person," the werewolf said. Harry looked up at him and smiled sadly. "I'm glad I'm here with you, Moony."

Remus looked at the son of his best friend and knew he was glad as well.

_**Hey everyone! Thank you for all the lovely reviews, I love knowing my story is liked! So, how did I do the talking bit of the forgiveness? I know it's not as sad as I said it would be but I didn't know how to work in all the crying because Harry isn't one for blubbering like a baby but more of a silent crier. And Remus is a forgiving person, I think. He always seemed calm and collected in the books and I was trying to maintain that perspective of him. So, please review and tell me how I did! Thank you!**_

_**DW **_


	15. The Only One

**Behind Emerald Eyes**

**Disclaimer-** I don't own Harry Potter and never will.

**The Only One**

It had been almost a whole day since Harry had left without a word on where he was going. It had been a day since she had looked into those eyes she had dreamed of for five years. Those eyes that made her weak at the knees and made her feel safe like no other could. It had been a day since she had touched him and kissed his tender lips. It had been a day since he left. And if felt like a year.

Over the years in which Harry had been missing, Ginny Weasley had been missing a part of herself. The last image she had of her dark-haired hero was on that fateful day nearly six years ago. She remembered walking out into the blood-soaked grounds and her breath had caught in her throat. There was so much death and destruction in place on what was once pure and alive.

She had walked out behind her brother and spotted their friend at the same time. He had been standing tall but broken, over the fallen body of their headmaster. His dark hair had framed his young face and his thin glasses had acted as a window into his defeated mind. She remembered thinking how powerful he looked from that point just out form the Great Doors. She remembered looking at him and realising how much she cared for him.

But then he looked over at her and she was still scared to this day, at what she saw. His eyes were dead. No longer sparkling green and containing that handsome charm; they were blank and only held pain and sadness. She could still feel the sorrow inside her at how he had looked. Covered in blood, both his and Voldemort's, he looked like he was on his last breath. The sword of Gryffindor was clamped in one hand, hanging by his side, covered in the dark blood of the Dark Lord.

And he looked out at her, with those cold eyes, and she understood the pain he was in.

But her own anger had risen and because of this, combined with the added fury of Ron and Hermione, Harry's eyes had flickered out. As she watched his bloodied head fall to the ground, where his mentor lay dead, she knew that he would never be the same again. Her heart had cracked as her hero had vanished, and that crack had deepened over the years, slowly becoming a break.

She had thought about that day over and over in her head for years. And finally, after months of dwelling on it, she had come to a decision. And she had acted on it.

Ginny had begun her search for Harry, going on basic instincts. She knew Harry would never travel out of London because that was the only home he had known. She also knew he would mask his magical signature and use as little magic as he could, so she had to track him down the muggle way.

Ginny had known Harry had wanted to be an Auror after Hogwarts, so she had checked all Auror branches for any knew recruitments, thinking he might have gained a new alias. After she discovered nothing, she looked through all the muggle police units in London and still coming across nothing, she was starting to give up. That was until she stumbled upon a small Security Agency, in charge of guarding buildings and such in London.

And as she had searched the lists, she had come across the name _James Prongs._ The name had stirred something in her, something she barely remembered. And as it had hit her, she immediately set out in search of her lost hero, determined to bring him home. And that was what she did.

So there Ginny sat, out the back of her life-long home, thinking about Harry Potter. The boy she had loved since the first time she had laid eyes on him. The boy who was capable of lifting any situation, good and bad, and turn into something worthwhile.

She felt arms wrap around her waist and a warm weight press into her back. She looked up into the glittering emerald eyes of the boy-who-lived. She smiled and noticed something in his eyes that was not there when he had left the day before. It was a familiar shimmer, one he had lost on that day five years ago, when he had lost all he cared for.

But it was back. She looked back a little further and spotted a man standing in the doorway, talking to her mother. She smiled and kissed her boyfriend passionately on the lips. She was glad the old Harry was back.

……………………

Harry was sitting in the Weasley's Lounge Room, watching Remus Lupin chat to Mr Weasley. The man was still incredibly thin and looked like he had been ill for a long time. But the colour was returning to his cheeks and some of his worry lines had faded. But each time the aging man turned his eyes to Harry, he could see the deep pain inside them, a scar that would not fade. Each time Harry looked into his mentor's eyes, he would see the sorrow that was inside them and he would feel the guilt pressing down.

At least Remus's words of forgiveness had lessened the weight pressing upon him, it didn't make the guilt fade. It was still there haunting him, like an ever present symbol for the mistakes he had made.

But Harry loved being here with the people he cared for. He did not know how he had survived all those years by himself, without anyone to care for him or anyone to take him from the dark. He was left to his memories and the visions that flashed through his mind, scarring him eternally.

Harry as sitting in an armchair by the fire, just enjoying the soothing warmth from the flames and listening to the familiar talk of his friends. He spotted Ginny enter from upstairs and she made a beeline for him. Harry smiled and shifted over slightly to make room for her. She squeezed in next to him and placed her head beneath his chin while Harry idly ran his hand through her vibrant locks.

They spent the night in each other's company, loving the feeling of their bodies pressed together and remembering days that were so carefree. Ron and Hermione were sitting together on a couch opposite their own. Harry was watching them talk quietly and could not remember a time when they both looked so happy. Hermione was laughing softly, her brown curls bouncing and catching the firelight. Her dark eyes were glittering with a familiar shine, a thing Harry had almost forgotten.

Ron was smiling broadly, looking at the woman before him with utter devotion. His blue eyes were only set on the person beside him, as was his heart. Harry wondered about Luna, remembering Ginny saying that she and Ron had been together for almost a year.

"Hey, Ginny, I thought Ron and Luna were together?" Harry whispered into Ginny's ear. The red head was watching the two across from them as well, and she tilted her head up to meet with Harry's eyes.

"They broke up just before you arrived. It was a mutual decision," she said, smiling at the knowing look in Harry's emerald eyes. "Five Galleons they will be together by Thursday morning!" he said. Ginny's eyes flashed with certain glee and a sly smile spread across her lips.

"Deal!" she said, taking his hand and kissing it, while still smiling that sly grin. Harry was smiling goofily as he turned to his two best friends, to find they were watching him. He smiled broadly at them and drew Ginny closer. Hermione was smiling warmly, her brown eyes sparkling. Ron was smiling sternly but nodded in agreement, a blue twinkle in his loyal eyes.

…………

"Hey, guys, you never told me what Draco Malfoy was doing, you got too caught up in explaining about the Death Eaters and such," Harry said the next morning. Ron looked at him blearily, yawning loudly. Ginny was helping her mother with breakfast while Hermione was reading a thick novel but looked up when he mentioned it.

"Oh, well," Ron looked around, as if looking for a hidden camera or microphone. "We told you about the Death Eaters, right?" When Harry nodded, he continued. "Well, he's gone under cover as a Death Eater for the Order and is slowly edging his way up the rank. He has been reporting to us what the new Dark Lord's plans are, but every time he meets with him, he keeps his hood pulled. Nobody has ever seen his face, except his most loyal servants."

"There's another Dark Lord?" Harry said mouth-hanging open. Ron nodded grimly. "It seems that way. We haven't had attacks like these and so much Death Eater activity since Voldemort. But his attacks are always quiet and never in the same place. It's as if he was looking for something or someone. It's really strange!" Ron said, eying Harry cautiously. This new news was quite terrible. Harry didn't think the attacks were that bad and now that he thought about it, the patterns of attacks and disappearances were just like Voldemort's in his second reign. He did not want to think about the possibility that Tom Riddle didn't really die. But it was impossible for him to be still alive. Harry had been the one to drive Gryffindor's sword through his cold heart and watched the monster's eyes flicker out.

No. There was no way that Voldemort was still alive. It must be a copycat or another wizard searching for power. "So, there still is an Order then?" Harry asked. He did not think that the Order would have continued after both Voldemort and Dumbledore died.

"Yes, there is. We've only hade a handful of meetings so far, just to catch up on news from Malfoy. There was going to be one tomorrow night, but Alastor was put in St Mungo's last week. He had heart troubles," Ginny said, seating herself beside Harry.

"Oh, so Moody was running it then?" he asked casually, though his insides were squirming with the familiar pangs of guilt. She nodded slowly. "Yeah, he has just been standing in until another, better leader can be found. Moody is too jumpy and cautious. We need someone like Dumbledore who can lead people and understands the danger, and knows what has to be done." She said her hazel eyes boring into him. But Harry was staring blankly at the wall, not really hearing what she said.

His mind was back on that day. He was watching the green lightning shoot from Voldemort's wand, heading for his heart. But then there was a sudden flash of white as Dumbledore pushed him out of the way. Harry watched Dumbledore be struck in the chest by the Killing Curse. He stared into the eyes of his mentor as the familiar twinkle vanished and the life fled from the man's frail body. Albus Dumbledore fell to the ground; his wand rolling from his hand to come to a stop at Voldemort's shining black shoes. With a quick stomp, the wand was snapped in two.

"Harry? Are you okay?" Harry looked across to Ginny who was staring at him with concerned eyes. He faked a smile. "Yes, I'm fine, Ginny." She didn't look convinced but didn't press the matter.

"So where is headquarters now?" he asked. "Same place," answered Ron, watching him cautiously. Harry nodded, thoughts flickering to number Twelve Grimmauld Place where he had spent most of his summer after fifth and sixth year. The house had been mostly cleaned and looked very different from its previous dark state. Harry briefly wondered who had been looking after it since his departure.

In Sirius' will, it had stated that until Harry was of age, Grimmauld Place would be used as Order Headquarters, but when Harry of age, it would fall to him. All his godfather's gold and possessions were left to him, even though he didn't want any of it. Almost all the gold was still hidden in a vault beneath Gringotts. That included his own Trust Fund and Family Vaults. It sat there collecting dust, until Harry found a use for it.

"You said the Order meeting was this Thursday?" he asked. When Ron nodded, he continued. "Would you mind if I tagged along, it's just, I want to know what's happening?" Harry asked, looking up at his friends. Hermione was smiling warmly, watching him with her bright brown eyes.

"Sure, Harry, that's fine. The reason we were holding this meeting was to make plans to stop the Death Eaters and find out who this new Dark Lord was. Maybe, with you there, it will give the members hope and something to look to. Because, Dumbledore was that person in the second and first war. He was always there to make the plans and comfort everyone if they needed it. And he was the one to bring hope and fight the evil. And with him gone, we have no one. Until now." She said, looking at him with that clever gaze.

Harry drew his eyebrows down and stared at her with an emerald fury. "I am not _Dumbledore_. I will _never_ be Dumbledore-!" Ginny cut him off.

"We know you're not Dumbledore. You're Harry Potter. And you're all we have." She said, her hazel eyes shining with hope. Harry shook his head his bad mood dwindling away as he looked into Ginny's loving eyes. "But I don't know what to do!" he said truthfully. He was never good at making large plans and sending people out like army soldiers. He never wanted to be the one people looked for when evil made an appearance. All he wanted was to be a normal person. And when he finally got that chance, there was one other thing standing in his way of his dreams. One thing threatening to take away the ones he loved.

"But you do. You said you didn't know what you were going to do when you defeated Voldemort, but you did it. It's like second nature to you." Ron said, smiling slightly. Harry sighed. He didn't like the thought of being able to kill someone was second nature to him.

"But-!" he began, before Ginny once more cut him off, taking his hands in her own. "No, Harry. You're the only one who can help us. The only one who can lead the Wizarding world and defeat this Voldemort-copycat person. The only one we have." She said, pleading with her eyes. Harry sighed and nodded once. "Okay."

…………………………

**_Hey everyone, another chapter done! Yay! Well, please review and tell me what you think. The next chapter is the order meeting and one thing that will change Harry's life around. Well, not really, but it's still something big!_**

**_Thanks to all my reviewers, you're all the best! Well, I'm going to go start the fifth chapter of Shattered Memories. Then maybe Fulfilment of the Prophecy, but I'm not sure._**

_**DW**_


	16. Back in Hell

**Behind Emerald Eyes**

"**Back in Hell**

The sound of a lonely owl woke him from his slumber. It was still dark outside and the moon was hung low in the horizon. He pushed the covers from his thin body and stood shakily. Long, dark, unkempt hair hung to his shoulders and fell in his vision. He briskly pushed it away and began his painful trek to the door and down the hall.

_He_ had not been merciful last night. The after effects of the Cruciatus Curse still plagued his broken body; his head was throbbing painfully and his skin was stinging relentlessly. His foot was still hurting from that godforsaken Manticore that had struck him with its tail. He had no idea how _He_ managed to control it. But _He_ knew everyone was afraid of it that was why he kept it by his side at all times.

How he wished, he could stab the Manticore with its own tail; the poison would be quick and fatal. Luckily, he was wearing thick dragon hide boots the night before so the sting couldn't pierce all the way down. Only a slight drop of the poison had been released under his skin that was why he was limping now.

His house was an old family manor, with dark rooms and little light. Portraits hung on each wall of his ancestors. Each sneered at him as he passed, some with hooked noses and dark eyes and curtains of dark greasy hair. He glared at them hatefully before continuing on. The kitchen was situated in the bottom of the house with stone walls and shelves of bottled ingredients.

The table was long and chipped, with only one chair at the end of it. He walked to the stove and placed a pot over the fire, waiting for the water to boil. He didn't think he was up to performing magic at the moment; just a simple heating charm could back fire and scorch his face. He sat down on the high backed wooden chair and placed his face in his hands. There he remained for a good fifteen minutes until the water began to bubble.

Once he had a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of him, he stared at the wavering stream of hot air rising from the boiling liquid. He sat entranced by the weaving grey strands until they vanished leaving the tea cold and tasteless. He pushed it away from him and once more placed a hand over his dark, hollow eyes.

Visions of the night before flashed across his mind causing bile to rise in his throat. There had been another victim last night. A young girl, no older than the students he taught, was brutally tortured in front of them. Her screams were ringing through his ears as he watched her pitifully writhing on the ground. And they all had been laughing. Behind their white masks and under their thick hoods. The sound of their disgusting laughter mixed with the girls screams made him want to kill them all.

But that was out of the question.

After Voldemort had been killed, he thought he would be free from the Dark Lord's fiery gaze and torturous meetings. And he had been for a few years. Those years had been spent in a white haze; he could not believe he had been released from that dark prison he condemned himself to. But then it called him. The mark on his arm had burned fiercely and he thought he would die. He even briefly considered ending his life at that exact moment when the Dark Mark turned black.

But that old fool's last promise was still in place. When he turned to Albus Dumbledore in the first war, nearly twenty-two years ago, he had pleaded with the old man that he could change and that turning to the Dark had been the worst mistake he had ever made. And to his greatest shock, the headmaster had just looked at him with eyes of understanding and nodded slowly.

But instead of a full switch to the light, he had been forced to spy on the creatures he despised most. On one side, he was a loyal Death Eater, doing the Dark Lord's bidding. And on the other, he was a traitor and scum of the earth. Then there was that place in the middle. The one where he was a Death Eater turned spy, an unknown hero in a sense and he was respected there. People understood what he was doing and to what cost he was doing it.

Albus Dumbledore had said he was to always remain on the side of the light and help those who needed it. His promise to Dumbledore was that he would never again return to Voldemort and he would always be there to relay information that would help the Light side win that war.

And because of that promise, he was forced to be a spy to the dark, risking his life every time he showed his face to the masked Death Eaters. And he would continue to do so because Albus Dumbledore was the first person to forgive him and help him on his way for retribution.

Severus Snape's life had been far from happy. He had been abused as a child by his father. He thought going to Hogwarts would be better, that he would finally be accepted. But his time there had been ruined as well. Just because he had been sorted into Slytherin, the other students shunned him and called him names. He kept his head high; pretending that he didn't hear what was said. But their words had struck hard, leaving emotional scars. For all his time at Hogwarts, he had to fend for himself. He had to ignore the threats and hurtful teasing and try to be happy with what he had.

Then in the holidays, his father would abuse him and strike with more than words. His mother did not dare to try to stop him; she had tried once before and it resulted in her being brutally incapacitated. So Severus had to struggle through his father's fury and look for a brighter side. A side that didn't seem to exist.

That was why he had turned to Voldemort. His father was continually telling him to join the right side, a side which Severus considered bad. But due to discrimination at Hogwarts and abuse at his home, he thought being a Death Eater would give him power over those who taunted him. He believed that he would be looked up to and respected when he became a servant to the dark. How wrong he had been.

That was when he had turned to Dumbledore. Nearly twenty-two years ago, Severus heard word that Voldemort was going after Lily and James Potter and their small son. He went against the rules set against him being a Death Eater and ignored the risks to his own life. He had went to Dumbledore and told him everything. That was the day when he had become a spy and member of the Order of the Phoenix. Lily and James had gone into hiding, hoping the Dark Lord would not find them.

But he did, and Severus had been torn between two emotions when news reached his ears. He had been sad and angered that they had been killed after he risked everything to save them. But he was also slightly thankful. Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord and released him from his dark prison. But that only proved too good to be true.

The Dark Lord had risen thirteen years later, slightly stripped of his power, but very much alive. Severus had ignored the Dark Mark that night and immediately informed Dumbledore of its burning. From that day on, he was forced to relive his memories of the first war. He suffered through the tortures and murders performed in front of his eyes.

Then came the day when the Dark Lord fell. The same boy, who had defeated him fifteen years previously, had taken his tainted soul in a battle written in history. But Albus Dumbledore had also been taken in that final war. His mentor, his saviour, was dead. The old man he had come to call a surrogate father, had been killed by the same monster that haunted his dreams.

So he had been released from his cage at the greatest price imaginable and the glory of being free only lasted for three years. Because his Dark Mark had burned black and summoned him to the place where his nightmares were realised.

Back in the kitchen, Severus Snape struck out at the table, shattering the mug into thousands of pieces. His anger was boiling inside him, running through his veins in a savage fury. His once blank eyes were dancing with renewed rage and his oily hair was frizzing with magical energy. How he hated the world he was condemned to. How he wished he would be set free from the binds containing him. How he wished he could just _die._

In Snape Manor, the last remaining heir sat back down at the long wooden table. His hair was once more long and lank, and his eyes were hollow and blank. With one shaking hand, he brushed away the single tear of misery escaping his expressionless eyes.

**oOo**

The Order meeting was beginning in half an hour. Harry was staring straight into the forest at the back of the Burrow, his eyes full of pain. He would be returning to Grimmauld Place, a house full of memories and hard times. He remembered the summer before his sixth year, and the many weeks of hard training, he had gone through in that old house. He could remember the many Order meetings conducted in the basement kitchen, and the many times Harry and his friends had tried to listen in.

He sighed wistfully, staring at the setting sun. From the tree line, along the dirt path trodden under the bushes, a tall form appeared. Harry smiled as Luna Lovegood began her slow trek across the expanse of lawn, her blond hair catching the last remaining light.

"Hello, Harry," she greeted when she finally reached the back porch. "Hey, Luna." Harry said lightly, smiling down at her. Her bright blue eyes sparkled against her pale skin as she drew closer to the steps.

"Are you going to the Order meeting as well?" she asked softly and in a way that she already knew the answer. Harry nodded slowly, nerves once more growing in the pit of his stomach. She smiled at him and entered the house behind him. He could hear Ginny welcoming her and Ron's nervous _hello._

Soon it was quarter to six and the whole company was standing in the Weasley's kitchen, wands aloft and faces set. Harry's stomach was flipping in anticipation and his hands were sweaty as he gripped his wand.

"Just Apparate into the alley way beside number eleven, that way, no muggles will be able to see us," said Mrs Weasley as soon as Ron had re-entered the kitchen after finding his wand stashed upstairs in the bathroom. "I will go first, than Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Luna, Fred, George and last will be Remus." She said before disappearing with a _crack_. Soon Ron and Hermione were gone, and Harry pointed his wand to himself and took a deep breath. A second later, he was gone.

**oOo**

The smell of rotten cabbage and mouldy paper was what greeted him when he appeared in a dark alley. There were figures around him, half hidden in darkness. There were five more cracks before the group of witches and wizards made their silent way from the alley and into a damp, lightless street. The houses were boarded, and stood tall and dark against the cloudy sky. Harry caught sight of a slanted signpost reading _Grimmauld Place_ across the road in an overgrown courtyard.

He followed Ron and Hermione down the pavement a bit, before stopping before a crease between numbers eleven and thirteen. It took a moment while all of them thought of the hidden home, before the two old houses began to move as another formed in between them. A set of cracked stone steps led to a large, scratched door. As Harry slowly ascended the steps, he watched the serpent knocker glitter in the light from the moon. Ron reached towards the door and knocked three times.

The sound of many locks could be heard before the great door lurched open, revealing the heart shaped face of Nymphadora Tonks. She smiled when she recognized them, and moved back to allow them entrance. The Entrance Hall was still dark and dreary. An old troll's foot umbrella stand stood by a solid oak staircase, leading up to the floors above. Many heads of former house elves lined the peeling wall, all staring with glassy eyes.

Luckily, the portrait of the late Mrs Black had been removed, leaving a bare patch on the wall where her tapestry had hung. Harry looked to Tonks and spotted her eyes on him. He immediately noticed the cut running across her left eye, which she had tried to hide with a curtain of dark hair. She smiled at him slightly before leading them down to the kitchen.

There were already many people seated at the long, wooden table. Harry could Bill and Charlie Weasley, with their father, talking animatedly to Amelia Bones and Mundungus Fletcher, who looked half drunk. Elphias Doge was talking to Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones, who both looked up when Harry entered. As the Weasley's filled in behind him, the room went silent. Harry was looking around nervously, wondering why everyone was looking at him. As he looked to the far side of the room, he spotted Minerva McGonagall watching him with a faint glitter in her eyes.

"Umm – hi?" Harry said, fully aware of the pounding of his heart. There were a few chuckles as Harry went to sit next to Charlie, but Remus took it before he had a chance. When he turned to find another spot, all of them were full. All except one. It was Dumbledore's spot, the one at the head of the table. Harry glanced at it, feelings of pain and anger welling inside him. Instead of sitting down in that nightmarish chair, he turned to the left and walked towards his old Transfiguration professor, feeling everyone's eyes on him as he went. With a quick wave of his wand, he conjured a simple high backed chair and sat down, briefly glancing at Ginny's worried gaze.

There was silence for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the ticking of a distant grandfather clock. Just when Harry was about to say something, he heard the familiar sounds of the locks opening on the front door. Many people looked towards the staircase where footsteps were approaching. Harry was waiting for the person to appear, wondering who could be that late.

And who he saw almost caused him to die in shock. Severus Snape had just entered the kitchen, his greasy hair still covering his face and his blank eyes scanning the room. They soon found his own and Harry was sure he spotted shock in their black depths. Shock and…_hope_? Before he could ponder this further, the potions master had taken a seat in the far right side, his face half hidden in shadows.

"Well, now that we're all here, let the meeting begin." Mr Weasley said from beside the vacant head chair. There were murmurs of agreement and soon the meeting began. First to speak was Arthur, about the goings on in the Ministry and what actions they were taking.

"I have recently recruited nine new Aurors to our ranks and have sent word to Russia and France for anymore they can spare. I have two of them here, as they have proved beneficial to our cause. Please welcome Taylor Rainman and Antoine Gabrielle, our newest members." A young man stood on the right side of the room, along with a pale, black haired girl. There were polite nods in response, before they sat back down. Harry caught the man's dark eyes and seemed to see deep into his soul. And what he saw made his skin crawl. There was so much sadness in him; so much anger was just waiting inside to be freed. He had the mind of a mad man and Harry was determined to speak to Arthur when the meeting was over about the newest recruitments.

"Antoine Gabrielle will be our French informant. He will pass on any information from the French Ministry involving suspected Death Eaters or Dark Magic followers. The same goes for Taylor Rainman. She will be our Russian informant and pass on any of the same information. Also, she is part of one of the largest and purest Russian families, and has connections with many underground societies of witches and wizards and can easily relay information by any means.

"Also, we have had word that Jeremiah Jesston, the new Head of Magical Cooperation, has tried to sever ties to South African Communities without consenting me first. He said that Fudge would not want the British Ministry associating with such people. And he has also tried to reinforce old rules about Werewolf Legislation and half-blood privileges. A few others and myself have come together to try to rule him out of office, as I will not be able to do it on my own. With that said, Severus?"

Harry had been listening intently, having missed so many years of hearing the happenings in the Wizarding World. Snape's report was what he had been looking forward to most. He was itching to find out more about the so-called 'new dark lord'.

Severus Snape stood, placing his weight on his one good foot. Harry wondered what had happened to it before placing all his attention on the greasy haired man's vital words.

"There was another meeting last night. As always, he kept his face hidden with that damned hood and ordered his blasted Manticore around to try and scare us all half to death. There was a small attack on a muggle village and only one was killed. It was a young girl, around fifteen, and she was tortured before being put out of her misery. I have attended every meeting called so far and have heard nothing of any attacks to take place. But," and here he glanced at Harry, "there has been word of a specific target that the Dark Lord wishes to annihilate, someone he goes by as 'the taker'. I'm not sure who he is, but that may be because I am no longer trusted in the Inner Circle but they can't prove I'm a spy, so all is still fine. Perhaps Draco will be able to fill you in a little better." As Snape sat, another person stood, who had been sitting in the shadows behind Remus.

Harry hadn't even known that Draco Malfoy was in the room until Snape mentioned him. The blond haired Slytherin looked partly the same as the last time he saw him. He still had slick, white hair, flat against his pointed pale face. His piercing grey eyes struck through the room like ice and met with Harry's. In them, he saw pain and hopelessness, and Harry briefly felt proud of what Malfoy was doing for the Order.

"I have been able to gain the trust of the Dark Lord and even have some control over the Manticore. I am the Lord's second in command after Bellatrix –,"

"Lestrange is still alive?" Harry blurted suddenly. All eyes turned to him and he ignored them, staring angrily at Draco. The young man turned his head to face Harry, his eyes flickered with some unknown emotion, and he swiftly nodded.

"As I was saying, Bellatrix is still first in command after the Dark Lord. He always assigns her to lead the attacks and only allows her to hear his next plans. I have been able to hear some pieces of certain information, such as who the Dark Lord is after," Malfoy's eyes flickered to Harry, "And what he plans to do to him when he gets him."

"Have you found out why the Dark Lord wants Harry?" Ginny asked. Draco shook his head. "No, I can't seem to find any reason why he would want Potter. I mean, Voldemort had a reason for wanting Potter dead, but this fellow doesn't have any real reasons for murdering Potter. It just doesn't make sense!" Draco said, frowning disdainfully. Harry sighed softly from his seat.

"Does anyone need a reason for wanting to kill me?" he said trying to sound humorous, but all he got were worried stares. "I mean, I didn't find out until the end of my fifth year why Voldemort wanted to do me in, so what makes you think we will find out this guys intentions while we're all still alive?" Harry said, anger rising once more.

"All I need is a little more time so I can prove my loyalty, before he spills all his plans to me," Malfoy said defiantly.

"Yeah, what makes you think he will tell you that if you haven't even seen his face?" Harry answered just as boldly. The two were just staring at each other, grey verse green, before Arthur Weasley broke their staring war.

"Okay, well – you said you knew certain pieces of information? What would they be?"

"Oh – yes, the Dark Lord has told me he has some connections in the London Underground, who are able to put certain things into effect. I haven't been able to find out anymore about that except it has something to do with fresh snow, what ever that means." Malfoy said, sighing in frustration. Harry furrowed his brow at those words.

"Fresh snow? So, you don't have any other information about what's happening. Nothing at all?" Harry asked. Malfoy shook his head. "No. The Dark Lord contacted the _connections_ last weeks and said the plan was to take action this week. Well, today actually. But we weren't able to find any leads, so we just passed it off as a fall-out plan," Draco said, watching as Harry continued staring at him. Suddenly, without warning, there was a sharp pang that ran across Harry's scar. He clasped it in shock more than pain. Everyone in the kitchen was staring at him; mouths open and fear in their eyes. Harry pulled his hand from his head and stared blankly at Ginny. _Someone was very happy._

"What – was it – how - ?" Ron spluttered, incoherently. Harry was still too shocked to move. But then it all became too clear. Fresh Snow. Someone was happy. Getting Harry. London Underground.

Harry stood quickly, his body numb with sudden cold and panic. He stared at Ginny, her own eyes wide in fear. Harry breathed one word. "_Dave_!"

**oOoOoOo**

**_Hey everyone. I'm sorry it took so long to get this one out. My life has been so crazy lately and I can't find any time to write. Well, please review and tell me what you think. And I'm sorry I left you with a huge cliffhanger, but there were heaps of clues in this chapter about what's happening later on. And there is still heaps more to come in the next chapters, because this is where the story picks off!_**

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**_

_**Bye**_

_**DW **_


	17. The Death that Follows

**Behind Emerald Eyes**

**Disclaimer- **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Summery- **The days of Hogwarts are over, as is the reign of Voldemort. Harry Potter is just another name to be found under 'hero'. But things are not right. The legendary trio has parted and made their own paths in the world. It is up to them to stop the rising terror and to mend the breaks between the once-in-a-lifetime friendship.

This chapter is a bit angsty.

**oOoOoOo**

"_Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave_

_Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;_

_Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave._

_I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned."_

_- Edna St. Vincent Millay_

**The Death that Follows**

The night was cold and dark, but covered in a thick layer of smoke. The retched fumes were pouring from a building in the middle of London; a building once tall and grand that stood high and full of life. Flames now licked the apartment block; they reached out from glassless windows and wall less rooms. Debris rained down from the collapsing rooms above, to the deserted and damp streets below. Onlookers stood far away, in fear of being hit by a flaming piece of wood or cement.

One figure stood apart from the others and closer to the fire-racked building. He stood still with terror while his face was blank and expressionless. The flames were reflected in his emerald eyes covering the pain and endless sadness residing in their green depths. He stood watching the place he had called home for five years, be destroyed by flickering flames and uncontrollable heat. He ignored the people surrounding him and the muggle fire – fighters telling him to move back to safety. He just watched the fire destroy his home and he knew no amount of water could extinguish the magic – induced flames.

By the time, the crowd had cleared and the fire had burnt itself out, the Fresh Snow Apartments were nothing more than a smoking pile of rubble. The Firemen and Police Officers had been searching through the destruction for the last two hours and found nothing but a few burnt chairs and melted photographs. Harry was standing on the brown front grass, staring at the destruction _he _caused.

There was so much damage and so many lives lost. He had overheard a couple of Police Officers discussing the event and they had said twenty-one people had been killed. Twenty-one lives had been lost because Harry had lived in the same building that they had. They had yet to find the cause of the fire and said it had originated from the third floor.

Of course, Harry had already known that as that had been the floor where his room was situated. Just thinking about his room made him think of his lost friend.

"Oh, Dave, I'm so sorry…" Harry murmured as he placed a shaking hand over his eyes. Ever since he had heard the news from Draco Malfoy, Harry had known it was He that had done it. That copycat killer who was intent on destroying Harry's life like Voldemort had done so many years ago. But the question still hung as to **_why_** he wanted Harry dead. He was sure he hadn't done anything and positive there were no more prophecies relating to him.

But this was because of him. Dave and so many other innocent people were dead because of him. Because Harry had been their neighbours for five years. If he had known, a new Dark Lord would take Voldemort's place, than Harry would have moved to a remote island on the other side of the world and stayed isolated from all man – kind.

Harry swore loudly and ignored the cautious stares he received from a nearby Fireman. The charcoaled wood beneath his feet collapsed as he walked across it. Remnants of humanity stood out from the charred pieces of furniture and bricks. The muggle officials had long gone and morning was slowly opening up. The sun was rising above the horizon, red with the lives lost the night before.

Harry picked up a warped photograph and felt his heart clench at the smiling figures of a small family. His eyes were stinging and quilt was coursing through his body as he stared at the devastation surrounding him. So many families destroyed and friends lost. So many precious memories and unforgettable times were lost because of him.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he turned dejectedly to face Ginny. Her eyes were red and puffy, and fresh tears were running down her cheeks. Her lip trembled as she pulled Harry into a tight hug. He didn't return it but stood still and stiffly in her embrace. She pulled away and looked into his eyes. Harry felt so miserable and guilty that he was sure those feelings were clearly visible in his god-forsaken eyes. He looked past Ginny to see a group of others standing on the roadside, staring at the destruction with pale faces.

Harry handed Ginny the photograph and looked to the horizon, where a red sun was rising. Then he turned his eyes to the remains of the Fresh Snow Apartments, remembering Dave and how his family was yet to know of what happened. Harry thought he should be the one to tell them, as they all liked him and knew him best.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." He said blankly before Disapparating away, the lonely crack echoing around the ruin of good times.

**oOo**

It had been hard talking to the Ream Family. When he had knocked on their door in the early hours of the morning, they knew something had happened. It still brought tears to his eyes when he told them they had better sit down. At that moment, Diana Ream had known something had happened to Dave. She was already crying when her husband took her hand and helped her to the couch, his own face pale and eyes shining.

He would always remember the screams of pain and cries of disbelief as the two had mourned for their dear son lost. They had been the easiest of the family to tell. Harry had waited in the house for a few hours until Sophie Ream had arrived home. Her face had lit up when she found Harry sitting on the couch, but then her eyes had fallen on her crying parents and she had derived a conclusion.

Harry's heart had broken when the young girl had broken into uncontrollable sobs and ran into Harry's chest. She had cried for hours into his shoulder; not just tears but heart – wrenching sobs that brought Harry to tears also. She had been so young to lose someone close to her and too young to have to suffer through the pain.

When Harry had left, the Ream family told him to keep in touch and they would always be there. He told them he would be there for them. And if they needed anything to call him on his cell phone. It had torn him up inside watching the family grieve for Dave and it totally destroyed him knowing it was he who caused their pain.

Harry was now sitting beneath the tree beside the stream at the back of the Burrow. He was staring at the running water, with the light sparkling from the surface. He was staring at it but not really seeing it. His mind was elsewhere, on the war he thought was over and the people he thought would be safe. He unknowingly held the key, which was still around his neck, in his fist. The soft metal somehow comforted him but fuelled the guilt building inside him.

**oOo**

"_Harry is stronger than you, Tom, and you know it," spoke Albus Dumbledore to the monster Voldemort. Harry stood by the old man's side, starting hatefully at the creature in front of him. People were fighting around them; spells and weapons struck their opponents, as students and Death Eaters fell. Harry almost shouted in anger as a masked Death Eater shot down a third year boy who he had been duelling. _

"_Don't speak such lies to fuel the boy's arrogance, Dumbledore, you know as well as I that Potter is no much against me!" said Voldemort in a loud voice filled with malice and conceit. Harry turned his attention back to the towering figure of Tom Riddle, deformed and demon-like surrounded by the death caused by his army. _

"_I am stronger than the last time I faced you, Tom!" Harry said loudly and powerfully, keeping his wand level in front of him. On the outside, he was a face of bravery and defiance; but on the inside, he was terrified that he would die that day. Not because he was afraid of dying, he welcomed it, but because of the people, he would leave behind and what his death would mean. It would mean that Voldemort would win. And that was something he **could not** or **would not** let happen._

"_Such big words for a person in your position, boy. If I was you and faced one of great power like myself, I would watch what came out of my mouth!" said the Dark Lord, smirking with his lipless mouth._

"_If you were me, I would kill myself!" Harry snarled menacingly. Voldemort sneered at him and quickly shot the Cruciatus Curse at him. Harry deflected it easily and quickly retorted with a Blasting Curse. The Dark Lord blocked it easily and the duel continued. Soon, Dumbledore joined in and the three of them fought with such speed and excellence that their moves were that of a blur. _

"_Is that all you've got, Riddle!" Harry shouted, dodging a Killing Curse while sending a curse back at the red-eyed monster. The Sword of Gryffindor was hanging at his belt, light as a feather but strong as can be. Harry could hardly feel it as he dodged the spells quickly. Dumbledore was just as quick for someone his age and he would disappear one second to reappear the next in a completely different position._

"_Stupid boy, you will die!" Tom Riddle snarled in outrage, vanishing in a swirl of his cloak. Harry whipped around to face Voldemort who had reappeared behind him. But it was too late by the time he had turned. The jet of green light was shooting towards him. Harry briefly wondered if this what his parents saw before he readied himself to die. But he was pushed aside and he stumbled slightly, before righting his footing to see the green light strike Albus Dumbledore in the chest. _

_The old man had faced him before the bolt of electricity struck him, and he smiled at Harry proudly. And time seemed to freeze as the old man slowly stumbled backwards, his face still supporting the calm smile but his eyes no longer twinkling. Harry watched as Albus Dumbledore fell gracefully to the blood stained grass, his face vacant and eyes never again to twinkle. Harry froze in place, his heart stopping and blood running cold. All sounds were drowned out except that of Lord Voldemort laughing._

**oOo**

The key grew hot in his hand as Harry swore and quickly dropped the small piece of metal. A red outline of the small key was placed on his hand as he sighed in anguish, ignoring the tears spilling from his eyes. His memories were so painful and so real that he was scared they would once again come alive, but this time, one of his friends would die at the hand of Voldemort. The demon that had destroyed so many families and taken so many lives was once again plaguing his dreams. Ever since his leave of Hogwarts on that fateful day, five years ago, the Dark Lord had played another part in his life. Once more terrorizing him in his dreams and haunting him beyond the grave.

"Won't my life ever be free of death?" Harry said softly and painfully into the clearing. "It wont as long as it's so full of life," said Ginny as she appeared to his left. Her eyes were still red and she looked incredibly pale and tired. Harry sighed as she sat down beside him and took his hand.

"Every time something looks like it will be fine, something happens that turns everything around. Like, when I was just enjoying being back and I thought everything would go back to normal, this new Riddle character has to go and kill the only friend I had made in five years!" Harry said angrily, wiping the tears away furiously. Ginny sighed and squeezed his hand tighter, kissing it lightly.

"I know, but everything will be better –" she said but Harry cut her off. "How do you know? How do you know that the Third War won't break out? That this new Dark Lord won't kill us all in our sleep?" he said painfully. Ginny placed an arm around his waist while Harry put his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer to him. She sat her head on his shoulder and he put his on hers.

"I don't. All I have is hope." So there they stayed, with the stream trickling unawares and the sun setting on another day.

**oOoOoOo**

_**Hey everyone. Sorry this chapter is late and really short but I thought that was a good spot to leave it. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out because I have my School Certificate Exams next week which is like the OWLs. And I have to STUDY! Ahhhh!**_

_**Heaps of people thought that Dave was the new Dark Lord, sorry about the confusion, but no, he isn't. But Dave is dead and never to return, sadly. I liked Dave. But it had to be done! Well, umm, please review! Please?**_

_**Bye**_

_**DW**_


	18. The Day After

**The Day After**

Harry and Ginny returned to the Burrow, hands linked and minds remembering he who was lost. The others were already inside, sitting around the kitchen table. When Harry entered, the atmosphere was thick with sympathy and pity. He ignored it. He was used to being the one everything mostly happened to, he grew to ignore the sad looks people gave him, and tender touches meant to comfort, so hollow and unknowing.

He sat down with Ginny. Hermione gave him a soft smile, although her eyes were red and puffy. She had only known Dave for a few hours while Harry had spent five years with him. And he couldn't believe he was gone. Harry knew something would happen when he returned to the world he left behind; he knew someone would suffer because of his actions once again. And it was Dave, an innocent muggle, who was the one to die. The injustice of it all was digging into his heart, laced with the old pain from his Hogwarts days and the lies spoken; meant to protect.

"Dave was a good bloke, Harry," Ron's voice broke through his cloudy mind and he struggled to keep his emotions down. "Yeah, I know," He mumbled, hearing his own voice as if it was spoken by someone else. He could feel Ginny squeezing his hand and he flashed a fake smile. She gave one of her own, just as hollow and false. His hands were shaking and he couldn't stop them. He felt cold even though the air was warm. Sweat beaded on his palms and on his forehead. He ignored it.

"I don't understand why my scar hurt though," Harry said, pushing down the pain that was still fresh. He placed it deep inside himself and locked it away with so much force that he was left blank and expressionless. He looked up to the others, to see them looking at him strangely. He knew he must look a wreck but at the moment, other things were more important.

"So it was your scar, then?" Ron said softly, his skin still pale, making his freckles stand out sharply. Harry tilted his head in reply. "I thought once I killed Voldemort that the connection would be broken between us. That the link would be severed. But it's still there, I can feel it…" he said. It was the truth; he could feel it. Like a dark presence lingering at the back of his mind. It was once thicker and stronger, but now it was more like a dark smoke, coating one part of his mind. It felt like a rubber band was tied around it, before it was so tight it hurt. But now it hung loosely, as if it had been stretched too far for too long.

"Maybe it wasn't your connection," Hermione said quickly, her eyes flashing with hope. "Maybe it just reacted to the attack. Sort of like a Dark Detector, that picks up on any evil?" She said. Harry shook his head and smiled wryly, "I don't think so, Hermione." He knew she was just trying to cover up the fact that Voldemort might still be alive, out there somewhere. That he wasn't really killed by Harry all those years ago, but his spirit somehow escaped and had been biding its time until one of his faithful servants could resurrect him again.

"How do you know?" she said again, hair frizzing in anger. "Because I just told you. I can still feel the connection. The link with Voldemort is still there, but I don't know how. Dum – Dumbledore said the link should have been broken when Voldemort was killed. That I would be freed from him forever." Harry had almost choked up on Dumbledore's name, and the others knew it. They were looking at him with that retched pity again. A thing he did not want.

"But – but…" She said, hysteria breaking through. "Voldemort can't be alive." He said loudly, gaining immediate silence. "I was the one there, remember. I was the one to stab Gryffindor's sword through the monsters non-existent heart. I watched him change back to Tom Riddle and stood there until I was sure he wasn't going to get back up. He is dead. And nothing can change that." Harry stood and dropped Ginny's hand. "I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

Their eyes were on him as he left the room, and as soon as he was out of earshot, Harry let out an angry growl. _Why did everything happen to him?_ The shadows lapped at his feet as he climbed the stairs. Every step felt like an obstacle in his life; all hard to get over and just a pain in the ar –

"– Harry?" He turned around when he was at the top of the stairs and looked down to see Ginny. She was standing at the bottom, half hidden in darkness, but her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Yes?" He mumbled blankly. She started to walk up the stairs after him, never taking her teary eyes away from him. When she was standing on the step below his, she placed a hand around his neck and drew him down so their lips met briefly. When she let him go, tears were running down her cheeks.

"Happy birthday…" she murmured, her voice breaking. Harry looked at her startled. _He hadn't been back for that long, had he?_

"What?" he said stupidly. "It's just past midnight on July the thirty-first. You're now twenty-two." She said with difficulty. Harry couldn't believe it. Time had gone so quickly while he was back. He had returned when it was Easter and now it was almost August.

"I – I completely forgot. Some birthday present, ay?" He said savagely as Ginny winced. "Look, I'm really sorry –" She tried before Harry cut her off.

"What for? You weren't the one to drag Dave into this and you weren't the one to be targeted by this psycho Voldemort – copycat. Were you?" He said angrily. She shook her head, her bottom lip trembling.

"But I was the one to go and bring you back, drawing attention to Dave and your life. If I had just left you then this new Dark Lord wouldn't have known where you were or anything. Dave would be still alive –"

"Or, he would be dead, as well as me." Harry finished. "Look, I'm glad you brought me back. This has been the happiest time of my life, but I should have known it was too good to last." He said painfully, kissing her softly on the cheek before vanishing into the darkness of the hallway, leaving Ginny standing alone at the top of the stairs, tears streaming freely while she said, "Happy Birthday, Harry."

**oOo**

_Voldemort's laugh rang out, above the fighting. "You see," The snake-like monster hissed, looking at the fallen form of Albus Dumbledore, "You no longer have your precious headmaster. You are all alone, and you are mine!" Voldemort laughed again as Harry continued to stare at Dumbledore's lifeless face. His eyes were still open, staring at the blood red sky above them. His half-moon spectacles were lying beside him on the blood stained grass._

_Harry bent to pick them up but Voldemort stood on them before he could place his fingers around them. Harry straightened up and ripped his eyes away from the broken body of Dumbledore. He stared into the scarlet eyes of the merciless monster Voldemort and all his hate, all his anger and pain, all this, he directed at the Dark Lord. With a pair of flashing emerald eyes that reflected the war around them, Harry lifted Gryffindor's Sword in one hand and his wand in the other. _

_The two stared at each other and finally Harry spoke. "I will never be alone and I belong to no one!" With that said, the two once more broke into battle. Spells flew everywhere, some striking their targets, others ricocheting into the setting sky. Harry moved effortlessly, dodging and ducking while striking out with his weapons._

"_Stupid boy, you will fall!" Voldemort shouted as he shot the Cruciatus Curse towards him. Harry just laughed as it swept over his head and he swiped his sword forward where it sliced into Voldemort's side. Dark blood now coated the silver of Gryffindor's Sword and Harry looked up at the Dark Lord, a fire of vengeance burning in his eyes._

"_I won't fall, Tom, and if I do, you will go with me!" Harry shouted, flicking his wand to shoot a golden cage out of the tip of his wand. It covered Voldemort a second before the white-faced man screamed with rage and disappeared from behind the bars. Harry turned to face Voldemort as he appeared behind him and he immediately shot a spell towards him. _

_Even though Voldemort was injured quite badly, he still managed to move swiftly, dodging the spell and sending another back at Harry. He blocked it with a shield and the two stood facing each other. The battle raged on round them. Harry could hear the screaming of the two forces and feel the pain all around him. So many people were involved in this war; so many different lives were at stake. But they were all fighting for the same thing: life._

"_You think you can defeat me, Harry? Even though I have taken so many of your so-called loved ones away from you, you still try to fight back. Albus Dumbledore is dead and we both know he was the only one capable of defeating me!" Voldemort said, an evil yet unsure smile placed upon his skull-like face. Harry looked him in the eye and smirked._

"_You really thing that, do you?" He said bravely even though his heart was frantically beating in his chest. "Yes I do, boy." Voldemort answered._

"_Well, sorry to disappoint you, but Dumbledore was not the one who could defeat you. He always knew he couldn't kill you, but trained me instead. Because, unlike you, Tom, I know the prophecy. And only I have the power to take you down for good. And as long as I have a breath left in my body, I will keep fighting."_

_Harry relished in the fact that Voldemort looked momentarily startled by this news, but he soon recovered and had a sick smile playing on his lipless mouth. "And could you do that alone?" Harry was briefly put off by this but refrained from answering._

"_I know how much your friends mean to you, Harry. And as long as I have breath left in my body, I will do my best to torture them and slowly cause them pain. And I will make you watch. And even if I somehow die today, even if it is impossible, I will still hurt them. I have many ways, Harry Potter, and even after death, I will slowly kill everyone you have ever cared about and anyone who has ever cared about you." Harry felt his skin crawl and he glanced over towards the castle, where his best friends were safe behind the great walls of Hogwarts. _

_But this was all Voldemort needed before he attacked. "Crucio!" Harry turned back to Voldemort just as the red beam of light hit him. The pain was so intense that he struggled not to scream. But Harry didn't fall to the ground or even make a noise as he straightened up, the white-hot knives still pressing in against his skin. Voldemort looked to him as he lifted his wand._

"_Do you think you're stronger than me, boy?" Voldemort sneered. "No," Harry said, "I know I am."_

**OoO**

Harry was once again walking down by the stream in the small woodland at the back of thew Burrow. He had been woken by another dream last night, this time it was of the final battle with Voldemort. He had said he would continue to hurt people Harry cared for even after he died. Back then, Harry thought he was just speaking to scare him. But now, he wasn't quite sure.

"Is my life always going to be cursed?" He said to the fading darkness. "Depends what you classify as a curse." Harry turned his head to spot the dreamy form of Luna Lovegood standing on the opposite shore of the stream.

"Oh, good morning, Luna." Harry greeted, a little shocked to find her out this early. "What are you doing out here?" He asked softly, drawing his jacket a little tighter around him. She smiled at him and sat down on the damp grass.

"The same reason you are," she answered and smiled at his confused look. "I still get nightmares of the war. They've never really left me." Harry had completely forgotten that she had been one of the ones fighting as well. Luna had been almost killed out on the grounds of Hogwarts. She had been attacked by a giant and knocked unconscious in the midst of the fighting. When they had found her, she was covered in blood and hardly breathing. Luckily though, she had pulled through and been considered a miracle.

"I'm sorry," He said, consciously aware that he had just repeated Ginny's words from earlier. Luna smiled over at him, her blond hair framing her pale face like a white hood. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm glad I was apart of that. I wanted to fight and it wouldn't have mattered if I had died. I would have died for a reason." She said softly, looking up at the night sky. "Mars is bright tonight." She whispered while Harry just stared at her.

"I'm glad you're here now, Luna." Harry said, sitting down also. She looked across at him and smiled. "So am I." The morning slowly came out and the two still sat by the trickling stream, talking about old times and even some new.

"I heard about that attack in London last night," Luna said suddenly, looking over at Harry. He felt his stomach drop and he hastily turned his attention to the running water. "Did you?" He stammered, awfully aware that she was still looking at him.

"Did you know one of the muggle's that died?" She asked softly, her expression still blank. Harry nodded slowly, "I knew a lot of the people that died yesterday." Harry said painfully, flashes of the burning building appearing in his mind.

"Remember, those that die never truly leave us." Harry looked over to find her disappearing into the trees and he shook his head slowly, mumbling, "Some thing's never change."

But as he walked back towards the Burrow, her words finally reached his heart and he understood what she meant. And all of a sudden, it felt as though a great weight had lifted from his shoulders and he smiled a smile of acceptance.

**OoOoO**

_**Hey, yes, I know its short, but what are you going to do about it? Hooray, exams are over and I don't have to go to school as much. The next chapter will be up in who knows when and I think it will have an important bit in it that I was going to out n the last but forgot. Make sense? Afraid not. Well, please review as always and thanks to everyone who has so far!**_

_**Bye**_

_**DW**_


	19. From Securtity to Defence

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**From Security to Defence **

"I told you not to get me anything!" said Harry, later that morning, when Ginny presented him a small, neatly wrapped parcel. She smiled warmly and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Yes, but since when do I listen to you?" She said, laughing when he pulled a face. He sat the present on the table, just as Hermione and Ron entered, both carrying similar packages. Hermione hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek lightly, placing the gift on the table before him.

"I don't have to kiss you, do I?" Ron asked, as Harry chuckled. "Oh, don't you love me?" Harry said, placing a heartbroken look on his face. Ron punched his arm and ruffled his hair.

"Of course, little brother." Ron said, going slightly red after this. Harry stared at him, at a loss for words. "Little brother?" He croaked, feeling a lump rise in his throat. He stubbornly pushed it down as Ron shuffled his feet.

"Well, yeah, I am older than you by four months!" He answered, laughing as a broad grin broke free on Harry's face. "Here," Ron said, shoving a roughly wrapped gift into his arms. Harry just shook his head, feeling the happiest he had in ages. But thoughts of Dave entered his mind and his smile drooped a little. But before he could drown in his own self – misery, Ginny placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"It's okay to be happy," she murmured earnestly, nodding her head. Harry smiled and lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "Thank you," he said before Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen in a flurry of red hair and pulled Harry into a tight, motherly hug.

"Happy birthday!" she said, "I can't believe you're already twenty – two! Oh, my boys are all grown up!" She said, sobbing into Harry's shoulder. He patted her awkwardly on the back, looking over her head at Ron, who was bent over in silent giggles. When she pulled away, her eyes were red and puffy, with tears dribbling down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away with her apron and turned back into the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans.

Harry sat back down at the table, feeling cramps attack his cheeks from smiling too much. "Fred and George will be over later on, with Bill and Charlie. Luna and Neville said they would be along shortly, as well as some others." Mrs Weasley said, setting the flour and water mixing in a bowl.

"Why are they coming over?" Harry asked lightly, reaching for an apple that he had been eyeing for the last few minutes.

"For your birthday, of course!" Hermione said, her brown eyes shining in excitement. Harry swallowed the piece of fruit in his mouth and looked at her strangely.

"How many people are coming?" He said, feeling nerves fluttering around in his stomach.

"Not that many, a bit less than your Welcome Home Party," she answered, chuckling at the wide – eyed expression on his face.

"But – but, I didn't want any of this! I had completely forgot it was my birthday, until Ginny reminded me last night!" said Harry truthfully, getting a few disbelieving looks from around the table.

"It doesn't matter if you didn't want it," Ron said, "Because you're getting it." Harry just shook his head, still smiling as he had another bite of the apple. Luna came over around half and hour later and smiled at Harry knowingly. Harry grinned back and whispered a quick but sincere thank you to her as she sat down at the table.

"Not a problem, Harry." She said, her protrudent eyes sparkling with life. "I send my birthday wishes also," She added as an afterthought, placing a hand into her pocket to pull out a silver object. She passed it over to him, saying, "I didn't bother wrapping it as the natural resources of our planet are rapidly decreasing and I am wishing to save as much woodland as I can."

Harry nodded at her wondering what she was going on about. He liked Luna very much, but sometimes she confused him tremendously. He looked down to the shiny, silver object in his hands and gasped at what he saw. It was a beautifully made, silver and black penknife. It seemed to have many other contraptions also, including a fork, spoon, bottle – opener, skewer and even this weird looking silver contraption, that looked like a wonky cross.

"Thanks, Luna!" He said as he turned it over in his hand and gasped. On the front side of it, was carved a phoenix in flight, with flames billowing out behind it that flickered against the metal. "It's beautiful, but what's this for?" He asked, showing her the strange looking cross.

"Oh, that can be used as a weapon against the Crumple Horned Snorkack. They are deeply religious creatures, and the deformed cross will offend them so much that they will pass out from aggravation!" Luna said, nodding quickly, her face deadly serious. Harry looked down at the peculiar attachment and said, "Oh."

"Neville's here!" Someone called from the front of the house as the front door could be heard opening and footsteps walking down the hall. Neville Longbottom appeared a moment later, looking better than ever.

"Hi everyone, Happy Birthday, Harry!" He greeted, shaking his and Ron's hands while hugging Ginny, Hermione and Luna. _Things have definitely changed!_ Harry thought, remembering the self – conscience, clumsy boy from his school days. Neville was no longer self – conscience or clumsy for that matter. He held himself confidently but still held that boyish innocence that Harry thought would never leave his friend.

"Hey, Neville!" Harry said, thanking him as he handed Harry a squarish parcel, which was quite heavy. "Happy Birthday to you too!" He said, remembering that Neville's birthday was the day before.

A look of shock past over his face and he said, "How did you know?" Harry grinned and said, "I have my ways!" They all laughed at this just as four more redheads entered the kitchen, two of them singing the birthday song at the top of their lungs.

"Fred! GEORGE! Enough of that!" Mrs Weasley shouted scolding her two, well – dressed sons. The twin's were wearing bright red, dragon – hide suits, which Harry suspected came from a Chinese Fireball.

"Harry, old boy!" Fred called, slapping him on the shoulder. "I can't believe I have the honour of meeting the _legendary_ Harry Potter!" George exclaimed, placing a hand to his forehead in mock surprise. Harry grinned and stood up to embrace them brotherly. He did the same to both Charlie and Bill, with Charlie supporting a new burn on his neck.

"Norbert's son did this to me yesterday!" He said, laughing. "He's just as fiery as his dad, if you know what I mean!" They laughed at his bad joke and Harry was already having an excellent time.

"Just a few more people have to come, and Arthur should be able to get a couple hours off of work at around noon," Molly Weasley said, still at work at the kitchen bench. Harry tried to get a look at what she was making, but the woman caught his sneaky gaze and told them all to get outside since it was such a lovely day.

After a round of 'table – wars' in which Bill and Fred's table won against Ron and George's, they settled down under the blearing sun, enjoying the soft breeze blowing their hair. Hermione and Ginny were chatting at one side, and Harry and Ginny kept looking at each other and smiling. Ron, Charlie and Bill were chatting about the new quidditch League while Fred and George were setting something up at the forest – line.

Luna was watching Neville with her non – wavering gaze, as he and Harry talked about different things.

"So, what are doing now?" Harry asked, grinning as Neville noticed where Luna's attention lay. "Oh, I – erm…I'm working as a H.I.T at St. Mungo's." At Harry's vacant face he said, "A Healer in Training."

"Oh, that's great!" Harry said truthfully, glad Neville was able to accomplish something so extraordinary in his life. "Yeah, it is. I'm finally able to put to use my Herbology skills and help people in the process." Harry grinned, as Neville's face shone with joy.

"And how are your parents?" He asked, remembering the incident at his Welcome Home Party. If it was possible, Neville smiled even wider and his eyes sparkled with pure happiness.

"They are loads better. Since your party, they have been able to remember more things from before they lost their memory, and their confidence is growing so they are trying harder to walk and do things on their own. I can't thank you enough for coming back! The healers say that seeing you brought back memories, because you look so much like your folks! If it wasn't for you, it would be years before they would be at the stage they're at now!" Neville said, shaking his head in awe.

Harry couldn't help grinning. A warm feeling was rising in his stomach that rose up through his chest and down to his fingers. He felt so happy for Neville that he had his parents back, and he had something to do with it.

"I'm not sure I was the cause of it, but I'm really glad for you, Neville!" He said earnestly, patting him on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Harry, you don't know how much it means to us," Neville said, sweeping back his light brown hair while his eyes glittered in true bliss.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Announced a familiar voice. Harry turned to see Remus Lupin enter the backyard, and was amazed at how well the old Marauder looked. He no longer looked weak and pale, with blood – shot eyes with deep bags beneath them. He looked healthier, with a spark in his eye and spring in his step as he walked over to him.

Harry stood and quickly hugged his dear friend. "You're looking great, Moony!" Harry said, looking down at Remus's new clothes.

"Thanks, Harry, it's all because of you!" Remus said, smiling broadly. Harry shook his head, "I've heard a lot today," He said as Lupin laughed loudly.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Nymphadora Tonks greeted, strolling over to them. Harry grinned at her and hugged her, feeling as though his head was to explode with happiness.

"Harry, now that everyone's here, how about we open the presents?" Ron said from the other end of the table, eying the small pile of gifts with bright eyes.

"What about Mr Weasley?" Harry said.

"Oh, Arthur said to go ahead with everything and he would be along later on!" Mrs Weasley said as she walked out onto the grass, leading a line of floating plates with ease.

"Okay, then" Harry said, rubbing his hands together to ready himself.

"Open mine first!" Ginny said loudly from his side as she and Hermione looked on.

"Alright," Harry said, picking up the small package, wrapped in dark green. He pulled the string and pushed the paper back to find a small box inside. He lifted the lid softly with shaking fingers and found a piece of parchment sitting solitarily in there. He looked up at Ginny with confusion to find her waiting anxiously on. Shrugging, he put the box on the table and picked the piece of parchment up, gently unfolding it.

_Dearest Harry, _

_This is merely note to say that you will be getting your present tonight._

_With all my love,_

_Ginny_

Harry looked over to Ginny, with his mouth open stupidly. Ginny smiled innocently at him, before snatching the paper from his hands and shoving it down her top to stop Ron from reading it over Harry's shoulder.

"What did it say, mate?" Fred asked suspiciously from his left, eying the box with squinted eyes.

"I – I…it was an IOU," he said dumbly, wondering what it was she was going to give him. A second after he thought that, he realised what she had meant and he felt his face grow hot.

"Mine next!" Ron said, totally oblivious to Harry's red face. "Erm thanks Ron!" He stammered, finally tearing his eyes away from Ginny. He picked up the roughly wrapped parcel and ripped it open aware his hands were trembling. _Stop it I could be wrong!_ He told himself, hoping he wasn't for all his being.

Inside was a framed photograph of a bunch of moving figures. Harry spotted himself in the middle, standing between Ron and Hermione, who were flanked by Neville and Luna, and Ginny was lying on the grass in front of them. Photograph Harry kept throwing sneaky glances at Ginny who kept sneaking glances at Harry when he wasn't looking. It was taken beside the Great Lake at Hogwarts, with the mighty castle standing in the background, looking just as powerful as it really was.

Harry was staring at the photograph with unmoving eyes as all sounds blanked out. He remembered when this was taken. It had been just when NEWTs were over and they were celebrating down by the lake's edge by having a picnic. Colin Creevley had found them and insisted that he have a photo. It had been only a week before the mighty Hogwarts Battle and only a week before Harry lost everything he cared for. He had been Head Boy in his seventh year while Hermione was head Girl. Harry had been extremely shocked when the headmaster had presented him with his shiny silver badge and even more shocked when he had been made Quidditch Captain. But he already had too many responsibilities that year, so he gave the Captaincy to Ron who was so happy that he almost fainted in joy.

Now, as he looked at the picture, he caught the silver badge on his chest matching that on Hermione's. Ron was holding his up to the camera, looking at it proudly, occasionally bringing it to his lips and kissing it. This photograph was a sign of all things good, all things perfect. It was at this time in his life when he had been carefree and happy. This photograph had captured a scene that Harry thought would never again be seen.

Suddenly, all noise returned and he found many eyes watching him curiously. He looked over to Ron who was waiting anxiously and Harry smiled. "Ron, this is the best. Thank you so much!" He took one last look at the picture and placed it back in the brown paper, sitting it carefully on the table.

Harry had received a book on Healing from Neville who said it was a highly interesting read; a wand – holster set from Tonks; a whole box of Pranks from the twins; a book on Ancient Curses and Hexes from Bill; and a thick book on Defence Against the Dark Arts from Hermione, who said he would need it while her eyes twinkled as if she knew something he didn't.

"Thanks, guys!" Harry said as Molly once more entered the backyard, this time levitating a three – levelled chocolate cake behind her. Harry watched her with wide eyes and a grin as she set the cake in front of him, kissing his cheek.

The cake was iced in chocolate and had emerald green writing on the top, saying: **_Happy 22nd Birthday, Harry!_**

As Harry looked around him after blowing out the candles, he realised he had been wrong about the photograph. At this moment, with all his friends around, he was truly happy. And he looked to Ginny, who was smiling at him warmly with her hazel eyes shining with love. He smiled at her and blew her a kiss, which she caught and held it to her heart. And he thought_ I love you_.

**OoO**

The day progressed quickly with everyone laughing and enjoying their time together. Mr Weasley came just after lunch and the party sped up after that. It was mixed with a Gnome Hunt, Prank Wars and even a Quidditch Match.

Harry hadn't been on a broom for many years and many people, including him, expected that he would be a bit rusty. But, as always, everyone was amazed at how well he flew. Once he was up in the air, with wind whipping his hair back and the sun shining down form above, he finally felt home. He zoomed around the backyard and over the small forest, glad he had put up Muggle – Repelling Charms before hand.

The Quidditch Game turned out to be a great success, with mostly everyone, bar Hermione, Luna and Mr and Mrs Weasley, involved. Harry was seeker against Charlie Weasley, who sat grinning in the air opposite him. Ron was keeper against Bill. Tonks and Ginny were Chaser's against Remus and Neville, who was a bit shaky at first. And Fred was Beater against George.

The game was slow but fun, with many fouls being played against both teams. Charlie was a superb flyer and would have been better in his Hogwarts days. He and Harry circled the pitch, occasionally throwing each other playful remarks or swooping them, laughing the whole time. Fred and George were rough against one another, and were constantly trying to take the other's head off with their bats. But Harry caught them winking at each other, or nodding secretly, as to who swooped who.

In the end, when the score was 250 – 230, Charlie's side, Harry pulled off an excellent dive, pulling up mere inches from the ground with the snitch in hand. Charlie congratulated him profusely and said he was as good as everyone said he was.

At around four, there was a very welcome surprise, as Hagrid and Madam Maxime turned up with their children and Minerva McGonagall in tow. Harry's old transfiguration professor greeted Harry warmly and gave him a rare smile, while Hagrid almost crushed him to death.

Hagrid's children were huge. They were to be three in a couple of months and they were already up to Harry's hips. Goliath had scruffy, jet – black hair and his mother's olive skin, while Arowyn had long black hair and fair skin, with her father's beetle black eyes. They both hugged him around the middle, while he swore he heard his leg crack.

Mrs Weasley made a large, delicious meal and just as Harry wondered how she did it all, he was tackled by a small creature around the waist. Harry was startled to find that it was Dobby, looking up at Harry with his large, green eyes that were leaking large tears.

"Dobby thought he wouldn't be seeing Harry Potter again!" He said squeakily, drying his eyes on his small shirt. "I thought Harry Potter had forgotten about poor Dobby because Dobby had been a bad House Elf!" Harry shook his head.

"I wasn't mad at you, Dobby! You were an excellent House Elf and friend!" Harry said. Dobby looked up at him and started bawling into Harry's shirt only stopping when he had created a large patch of tears that were dripping to the ground.

"Harry Potter is the greatest wizard! He is saying that Dobby was hi – his _friend_! That is the greatest honour, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said, shaking his head in excitement. Harry just grinned at the elf, still not believing at how crazy it was.

After dinner was over, Fred and George lit some of their fireworks, that shot up from the tree line to illuminate the sky with brilliant colours and pictures. Harry sat on the grass with Ginny leaning back against his chest and Hermione and Ron doing the same beside them. The brilliant flashes of lights were reflected in their eyes and Harry was amazed at how well the day had gone. It had been the best birthday he had ever had. And it was not yet over.

It was nearing eight o'clock and Harry had just helped Madam Maxime put her children in bed. They took up one each, so two people would go without that night if the half – giants decided to stay for the night.

"I iz glad you are back, 'arry!" Madam Maxime said to him as they quietly left the room, shutting the door softly behind them. The twins' snores could be felt through the floor as they silently made their way downstairs. "'agrid waz zo happy to 'ear that you were back, 'e lovez you 'ery much!" Harry nodded and said, "I love him too, he was my first friend when I was young and my oldest friend now. I'm glad I am back as well."

He said goodbye to her as she left to find her husband while Harry found Hermione sitting at the kitchen table with Professor McGonagall.

"Hello," He greeted as he sat down with them. They both smiled warmly at him. "Hello, are you having a good day, Mr Potter?" Minerva McGonagall asked softly, her once strict voice now one of joy and content.

"Very much, and just call me Harry, please?" He asked, feeling like a student again. She smiled rarely at him and said, "Very well, Harry, and you can call me Minerva as I have not been your professor for over five years." Harry chucked and said, "Okay, deal."

"I have wanted to talk to you both all afternoon, and I finally have the both of you together," Minerva said, pulling two envelopes from her breast pocket. She handed one each to Harry and Hermione, who took them curiously. "Read them first and answer me when you wish." She said.

Harry looked at the envelope, with was merely labelled with his full name. He glanced at Hermione who was already reading hers. He looked back down at his own and ripped it quickly open, pulling out a sheet of thick yellow parchment, stamped with the seal of Hogwarts. He read it with a held breath.

_To Mister Harry James Potter,_

_I am writing to you with knowledge of your Defence Skills and previous teaching occupations. I wish to offer you a job opportunity at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly. As you have more than likely heard, the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor has been a difficult one to place and it is hard to find a skilled person to fill this spot._

_I have checked you background schooling and am satisfied by your outstanding grades in both your OWL and NEWT Exams. This opportunity is one of great importance and I would be greatly honoured to have you teach at Hogwarts School this following year._

_Please send me your reply no later than the 20th of August. Please consider this offer._

_Yours truly,_

_Headmistress Minerva McGonagall_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry dropped the parchment onto the table in shock. Hermione was staring at hers in much the same way, and looked up at the feel of Harry's gaze. Hermione's face broke into a broad grin and she turned her head to Minerva McGonagall who was sitting there, watching them closely, with a smile gracing her lips.

"I – this – you want me? – Merlin!" Harry said shakily, picking up the letter again to read it through once more.

"I knew you were going to ask Harry to be the Defence Teacher, but you could have told me about this!" Hermione said, holding up her own letter.

"Is that why you gave me that book?" Harry asked suddenly, getting his answer by Hermione's twinkling eyes and sneaky smile. "And she wants you to be Transfiguration Professor?" He asked, still too shocked to let the information to sink in.

"Yes, how did you know?" Hermione asked, eying him suspiciously. "I put two and two together, plus," He motioned to the parchment, "You're waving the letter around, I caught the word 'Transfiguration'." Hermione grinned at him and turned to Minerva who was watching Harry with shining eyes.

"And, what did you say?" she asked, her Scottish accent traced with hope. "Of course I will!" Hermione said, "I have been thinking about leaving Beauxbatons for a while now and here's my chance to finally do it!" She said happily.

"And what about you, Harry?" the old headmistress said, eying him hopefully. "What other teaching occupations have I had?" He asked, reading it off the letter.

"The DA of course!" She answered, smiling. Harry said, "Oh," shaking his head in shock.

"So, will you do it?" Minerva asked, trying to keep her tone neutral although Harry was sure she wanted him to accept it. Harry read the letter again and remembered the thrill he felt back in his school days when he was teaching his classmates Defence. And he remembered how good he had felt when they succeeded in something and he knew he was the cause of it. He mentally made his decision and turned up to Minerva McGonagall.

He said, "Yes," And everything became a blur of brown hair as Hermione launched herself across the table at Harry, hugging him tightly. "Oh, we're going to be work colleagues together and everything! It's going to be so much fun!" Hermione said loudly, kissing his forehead and laughing as he started shaking his head in humour.

"Am I interrupting something?" Ginny said as she entered the kitchen, catching Hermione hugging her boyfriend and sitting on his lap. Hermione jumped up and ran at her, almost knocking her down when she hugged her.

"Say hello to your new Transfiguration teacher!" She said as Ginny's face lit up. "Oh, really! That's great, Hermione!" Ginny said, her anger immediately subsiding.

"And that's not all!" Hermione said, letting go of her redheaded friend, turning to look at Harry, who was grinning goofily. "Say Hi to Professor Potter!" Ginny stood speechless for a minute before screaming and running to Harry, hugging him tightly.

"Oh, this is excellent! I can't believe you both get to go back to Hogwarts and teach together!" Ginny said, her eyes shining with joy.

"Wait to the other's find out!" She said, running form the room, dragging Harry along by the hand. Soon everyone was congratulating Harry and Hermione on becoming professors and another party took place, raging into the night.

It was nearing midnight, nearly everyone had left, leaving only Harry, and Ginny sitting together out the back with Ron and Hermione, just enjoying the remaining firework display by Fred; George was asleep on the grass not too far away.

"Today was so great," Harry said, running a hand through Ginny's red locks, staring at the starry sky littered with the blue sparks left over fro the last firework.

"I know. I'm really glad you liked it!" Ginny said, squeezing Harry's hand tightly. He smiled and placed his arms around her, drawing her closer. The day had been the happiest of his life and after Dave's death; he thought he would sink into another depression. But, because of his _family_, he had been saved once again. And for that, he was forever thankful.

"I'm really tired; walk me to my room, Harry?" Ginny asked, standing up and pulling Harry with her. She smiled sweetly at him and he grinned.

"Sure, I'll see you in the morning," he said to Ron and Hermione, clapping Ron on the shoulder and kissing Hermione's forehead. They walked through the Burrow together, hand in hand. The stairs creaked as they ascended them, with their shadows merging as one behind them. They came to Ginny's door and walked in, shutting and locking it behind them.

Ginny led Harry to her bed, and brought him down beside her on the springy mattress. Harry smiled at her, feeling butterflies in his stomach. She looked nervous as well, and that gave him confidence. He pushed a strand of red hair from her face and kissed her passionately, pushing her back onto the bed. He kicked his shoes off, as did she, before he kissed her again, this time more deeply.

They did this for a few minutes, before Harry pulled away and looked straight into Ginny's eyes. He had felt nothing like this before; it felt as though nothing could ever harm him and he would be always happy if he could be with Ginny. He could see every little speck of gold in her eyes and could count the many freckles across her nose. She was staring into is eyes with so much love that he suddenly found it hard to breath.

He could hear her heart beating with his own and feel the warmth of her body against his. He kissed her softly; placing so much love into it that all he wanted was to spend forever with the person beneath him. He opened his eyes and smiled, knowing now what this feeling was.

"I love you, Ginny." He said softly. She smiled as well and kissed him once, saying, "I love you, too, Harry." And with that, the candle flame flickered out leaving only darkness to witness their love being completed.

**OoOoO**

_**Hey everyone. I'm not sure about this chapter. I wanted the ending to be perfect and I'm not sure if I got it. Please tell me what you thought and I'm sorry it took ages to come out. I wrote it all yesterday with the ninth chapter in Shattered Memories. Please review and tell me any major mistakes, which I'm sure I made, and thanks to everyone who has so far. Now, I'm off to bed because it's late and I have to go to school tomorrow.**_

_**Bye**_

_**DW**_


	20. New LoveNew Life

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**New Love; New Life**

Sunlight drifted through the partly lit window, showering down upon the sleeping couple. The room was cast in an ethereal glow; glittering softly in the morning light. Upon the bed, a dark haired man shifted and his eyelids opened, revealing a pair of bright emerald eyes. He glanced around the room, his brows furrowed in confusion. Then they rested on the sleeping woman beside him and they sparkled in understanding.

Her head was resting on his stomach, her bright hair cascading across the sheets like a flickering flame. Her face was smooth and spotless; her freckles faint in the pale light. Her back rose with each breath and a smile played across her tender lips. The sheet was wrapped across her middle, making her seem like an ancient goddess; beautiful and heavenly.

Harry lifted a hand and brushed away a curly strand of hair, tucking it behind one of her ears. He sat there just watching her sleep, enjoying the way her body fitted perfectly with his. The sunlight danced across her hair, making it flash with a flame-like grace. She moved her head softly and her eyelids flickered.

Harry sat contentedly, running his hand through her hair, remembering the night they spent together with a full mind. Everything was perfect. His birthday had been the happiest he had ever had, and Ginny's present was the most thoughtful anyone could give. After the devastating events of the last few weeks, Harry thought his life would turn into how it was back in Hogwarts; with nightmares and monsters destroying his sleep, and shadows trailing behind him with death on their minds.

But Ginny was his saviour; his own knight in shining white armour (Or sheet in this case). She rescued him from his self-induced prison and brought him back out into the light. For that, he was eternally grateful. The beautiful girl in his arms, resting against his body, was the reason he was alive again. She had resurrected him in a sense, and reintroduced him into the world and to the things that mattered most. She was his hero.

Ginny mumbled something and her eyes opened, locking with his. She looked confused for a second before she relaxed back down, a charming smile gracing her face.

"Morning," Harry greeted, kissing the top of her head. She fidgeted on his chest, brought a hand up, and pushed his head down, locking her lips with his. The kiss was passionate and perfect, and when it ended, Harry was left wanting more.

"A girl could get used to waking up this way," Ginny said, grinning. Harry chuckled, caressing her bare back.

"So could a man," he said truthfully. They sat in a peaceful silence, just staring into each other's eyes. They ignored the loud bang from downstairs, and remained their love-struck gaze. Harry was just wondering how so many wonderful colours could be found in one singular eye, when the door swung open and Ron came racing in.

"Ginny! Guess what, Fleur –" the redheaded man said, before freezing, his eyes locked on the couple under the covers. Harry froze. He couldn't move, let alone breathe. The two men were staring at one another, stuck in mutual shock and embarrassment. Ginny was staring at Ron furiously.

"Ron! Get out, _NOW!_" she shrieked. Ron slowly backed away, is entire face the brightest red it had ever been, and his ears like miniature rockets, ready to launch. As soon as the door shut, they hear Ron swear loudly and a loud _thud_ sounded when Ron's head connected with the wall. Harry groaned loudly, sitting up when Ginny slid off his top.

"That was the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen!" Harry moaned, putting his face in his hands. "I thought the door was locked? How did he get in?" Ginny's face grew even redder.

"Erm – I went to t-the bathroom last night, I must have – um – forgotten to lock the door when I came back in . . . sorry!" she said, truly looking distraught. Harry sighed and pulled her to him, kissing her lightly on the lips.

"It's OK, he would have found out eventually anyway," Harry said, "I just hoped it wouldn't be in a situation that, erm . . . revealing." Ginny groaned, dropping her head under his chin.

"I couldn't move! You don't realize how bad that was! I almost _died_ when I walked in on Ron taking a shower when I was nine! And this was a thousand times worse!" she said, trying to tug her hair out. Harry stopped her.

"Hey, don't do that; I like your hair!" he said. "But, seriously I thought he was going to kill me, or die in fright himself!" Harry said, chuckling now after seeing the funnier side of it, "well, we better go downstairs and see what he wanted." Harry climbed to the side of the bed scooping his pants up off the floor. He pulled them on and looked back to find Ginny completely covered by the sheet; only a lock of red hair gave away her position.

"C'mon, Gin," he said, patting her back beneath the sheet, "It won't be that bad." Inside, Harry was dreading seeing Ron again. He still had a nervous fluttering inside his stomach and his face was still warm.

"No!" Ginny called out from under the sheet. "Can't we just stay here?"

"You know we can't; what if it's something about the baby. I heard Ron say Fleur's name," he said, getting an immediate reaction. The sheet was thrown back and Ginny stared at him excitedly.

"The baby!" she squealed, jumping from the bed and running to her drawers. Harry tilted his head to the side, watching her naked form search for clothes.

"Merlin," he said under his breath.

**OoO**

A few minutes later had them descending the stairs, holding hands nervously. They could here Molly's voice chattering quickly in the kitchen and they sped up their pace. As they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley caught sight of them.

"Finally!" she yelled. "Ron came down and said you'd be a little while, but you could have gotten a move on!"

"Mum, what's happening?" Ginny asked, dropping Harry's hand and gazing nervously at her mother. Harry spotted Ron sitting hunchbacked at the table, face still red and his eyes twitching. He caught Harry's eye, and they both looked away awkwardly.

"It's Fleur; she's gone into labour!" she screamed, pulling at her hair. Harry smirked, _so **that's** where she got it. _"C'mon, we're Flooing to Mungo's!" she said, bolting from the room. Ginny trailed closely after her, as did Hermione, all looking excited and shiny-faced. That left Harry and Ron, both looking at their feet.

"Look, Ron –" Harry began, not knowing what to say.

"Yeh, erm, Harry –" Ron said, they locked eyes once again. "I'm glad it's you, OK?" Ron said, each word seeming to cause him much pain. Harry grinned nervously.

"Thanks, but could you knock next time?" Harry said, smirking as Ron's face went red once again.

"Merlin, I went in to find only Ginny, to see you two –" he made a disgusted look and said, "You could have put a sign up or something, or locked the door! I think I'm scarred for life!" he said, his voice squeaking. Harry laughed as Ron shook his head, his eyes closed with his hands pressed against them forcefully.

"I wish I could burn that image out of my head!" he groaned, "It was _terrible_! Worse than spiders!" Harry laughed loudly at this; glad Ron wasn't going to kill him for shagging his sister.

"RON! HARRY!" a loud, distressed voice rang through the house.

"I think we should go," Harry said, waiting as Ron stood.

"Yeah, before mum has a heart attack," Ron said, following Harry from the room.

"What took you guys so long?" Hermione asked as Molly disappeared from the fireplace in a bright green swirl of flame. Harry glance at Ginny who's eyes looked worried.

"Me and Ron just had a chat," Harry said, grinning and nodding his head at Ginny, who visibly relaxed.

"Oh, what about?" Hermione asked, looking between the two boys and Ginny. Ron looked to Ginny and shuddered, quickly reaching for the Floo powder and flinging some into the empty fireplace.

"St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!" Ron shouted before disappearing just as his mother had. Harry and Ginny started chuckling loudly as Hermione asked, "Did I miss something?"

**OoO**

St Mungo's Hospital was bustling with life as the four friends went in search of the maternity department. The witch at the front desk had said it was the fourth floor, and when Harry had asked Hermione why it was on that floor, she replied that pregnancy was put under 'Spell Damage' as most of the time they were pregnant because of a misused Contraception Charm.

This caused him to go pink.

As they walked along the fourth floor corridors, sounds of screaming and incoherent yells emanated from every room. Ron was looking incredibly pale as they reached room seventeen, and collapsed onto a chair, looking thoroughly exhausted.

Bill Weasley was sitting nervously in a chair by a pale blue door, his hair hanging limp and sweat beading his face. He gave everyone quick 'hellos' and went back to staring at the far wall. Harry sat beside Ginny who was staring at the door. Ron was pacing quickly in the centre of the room, mumbling under his breath.

Harry caught the words 'uncle' and 'Quidditch', before turning his attention to Hermione, she was sitting across from him, a book open on her lap, looking incredibly calm. Suddenly the door opened and a Healer's head popped out.

"Bill? Fleur would like you to sit with her," the witch said, as a burst of French echoed from the room, causing Hermione to snort with laugher as Bill vanished though the doors.

"What did she say?" Harry asked.

"She said: _'Just get this infernal thing out of me!'_" Hermione said, grinning. Harry chuckled and squeezed Ginny's hand encouragingly.

"Everything will be fine," he crooned, kissing the back of her hand. An hour passed and Harry had just returned with drinks when the doors opened and Bill came out, holding a pink bundle in his arms.

He smiled up at them and looked back down at his daughter, pure love shining from his eyes. "Say hello to Lily Esmeralda Weasley," he said as Ginny and Ron jumped forwards to meet their new niece. Harry and Hermione grinned at one another, letting them have their moment. Soon though, Fleur called out to Bill and he returned through the doors, carrying Lily with utmost care. The little girl had thin wisps of blond hair atop her head and a pair of great big blue eyes, with a light sprinkling of freckles across her pale face.

"She was beautiful!" Ginny said proudly, sitting on Harry's knee. Grinning, he said, "Yes, she was."

"I can't wait until she's old enough to ride a broom; then I can teach her Quidditch!" Ron said happily, colour returning to his face. Ginny scoffed.

"_You_ won't be teaching her anything; I'll be the one teaching her to fly!" she said, as Harry and Hermione laughed at the appalled look on Ron's face.

They were allowed in to see Fleur a little later. The part-Veela looked quite a mess; her once flowing, silvery hair was limp and frizzy, scattered about the pillow like a great cobweb. Her face was pale and sweaty, with bags beneath her now exhausted eyes. But a light seemed to shine from them as she stared at her daughter, asleep in her arms. Bill and Molly were standing by the bedside; Mrs. Weasley's eyes were shining with pride and she was clutching her son's hand tightly. Bill looked happier than Harry had ever seen him, as he looked at his wife and child.

"Imagine if she had been born yesterday on Harry's birthday!" Ron said loudly, chuckling. Harry grinned; it_ would_ have been amazing. "Or next week on Ginny's!" Harry's heart fluttered, he had almost forgotten it was Ginny's twenty-first birthday next week. What would he get her?

_The same present she got me would be perfect_. Harry thought to himself, smiling broadly.

"What are you grinning about?" Ginny asked from his side, raising her eyebrows. Harry smirked and shook his head.

"Nothing; nothing at all."

**OoO**

It was later that night and they had been home for around an hour. Molly had decided to stay with Fleur and Bill for the night at Mungo's, as Arthur had turned up earlier on. So it was only Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny in the house, eating pizza that they had ordered from the muggle town a few miles up the road. They had invited Luna over as well, and would have asked Neville as well, but he hadn't been home when they had Flooed.

Harry was laughing at something Ron had just said, when his scar tingled briefly. He immediately grew silent and his hand flew to his forehead. Everyone noticed his actions and a heavy silence fell.

"Harry?" Ginny said, staring at him concernedly. It had been the second time in two months that his scar had played up; the second time in _five_ years; the second time since Voldemort's death.

"Was it your scar again?" Ron asked, his face pale and eyes wide in fear. Harry nodded slowly.

"It had only tingled for a second; less than a second. But it's more than it has in over five years, not counting the day that D – Dave died," Harry said, bringing fresh emotions to the surface. He found his hand wrapped in Ginny's and he squeezed it thankfully.

"What does it mean?" Hermione asked. "There was a reason it prickled when you were younger, because of your connection with Voldemort. But now? It doesn't make sense!" she said desperately.

"I know," Harry said, feeling as though his worst fears had been answered. That Voldemort was indeed, _not _dead. Nothing else made sense. The only reason he had the scar was Voldemort, and the connection that he had had with the monstrous Dark Lord was only created because of his scar. So it would only make sense that when Voldemort had died, the connection had been broken; meaning his scar would be just that. A scar.

"It _can't_ be Voldemort," Harry said convincingly, "I watched him die. That bastard is dead!" He said savagely, banging his fist on the table.

The pizza grew cold.

**OoOoO**

_**Hey. Weird ending? Yes, I know. Long time before I updated? Yes, I know. You're going to hit me. Yes, I know. And this chapter was pretty short, but I had almost forgotten that Fleur was pregnant and I had to get that out of the way. Now that that's done, I can get into the good stuff. **_

_**Such as:**_

_**1. Harry and Hermione returning to Hogwarts **_

_**2. Harry finding out where Dumbledore's key fits**_

_**3. Harry finding another HUGE secret that has been kept from him**_

_**4. They discover part of the identity of the new Dark Lord**_

_**5. There is another death**_

_**6. There is a double kidnapping**_

_**7. And something amazing happens!**_

_**Look at all those that I have to weave into this story. That's a gift to apologize for my late update! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and I really want to get to 200 reviews before I post the next chapter! Please, please, PLEASE! If I do, I'll make the next chapter really long! I promise! And sorry for the swearing, it seemed appropriate.**_

_**Also, I should tell you that Fleur's baby is not named after Harry's mother, but after Fleur's great grandmother; not the Veela one. They just wanted Harry's acceptance of using that name. I'll get to that next chapter! Oh, and I tried to update this chapter yesterday but it wouldn't let me! Sorry! **_

_**OH MY GOD! I' just finished going through this on QuickEdit and my internet has disconnected! AND IT WON'T LET ME GO BACK ON! It's as if Merlin doesn't want this chapter uploaded or something. I'll keep trying and get back to you; it's now 12:20pm.**_

_**It's 12:21pm and still no word...sigh.**_

_**It's 12:30pm and I'm ready to hit the computer.**_

_**It's 12:37pm and I have hit the computer.**_

_**Thanks and good-bye until next time!**_

_**DW**_


	21. Confrontations

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**Confrontations**

Broken words, flashes of unknown faces, streaks of light. Harry Potter awoke.

The bed sheets were twisted around his body from a night of thrashing under the covers. Perspiration covered his face and chest, his palms sweaty, trying to untangle himself from the bed. Finally succeeding, he stumbled to his feet, heart thumping erratically behind his ribcage.

Through the partly curtained windows, the sun had barely risen above the horizon. Birds could be heard singing, their tunes somewhat calming his frightened body. Slowly, his breath came and he covered his face with his hands. After a few moments, he swallowed shakily, and tiptoed from the room. The bathroom door shut silently behind him and with the faint morning light, he scrambled over to the mirror.

His hair was a mess, as usual. But his eyes were bloodshot and skin pale, clinging tightly to his bones. He couldn't stop his hands shaking, so he clamped them tightly over the cool basin. After spending a minute staring into his own eyes, he turned on the tap and washed his face with the cold water. Looking back up into his dripping face, the nights memories flashed across his eyes.

A blind terror was slowly ceasing his heart, squeezing, clamping its icy talons. Breath escaped his lungs and his skin crawled as if many ants were running across it. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he suddenly felt the need to retch.

After disposing of his dinner in the toilet bowl, he wiped his mouth hastily with a shaking hand. His breath was steaming up the glass mirror, his vision becoming distorted and hazy. Harry turned and sat on the cracked, tiled floor, his back against the porcelain bathtub. There he sat for half an hour, head in hands, and knees pulled up to his chest. He stared blankly at his lap, the only noise being his unsteady, raspy breathing and the drip of water in the shower.

Thoughts were running through his mind; jumbled and half-finished, each one more terrifying than the last. The sun was now sitting amongst the trees, the scattered light playing across the room in a reddish haze.

"Voldemort," his voice was a low hiss and he spoke it with as much hatred as he could muster in his weakened state. The name hit each wall and rebounded back, fainter than before. Harry scrunched up his hands into fists, slamming them to the solid floor. He didn't flinch when a crack appeared in the white tiles, from the impact of his hand.

Voldemort. The man that had taken almost everything from him was back. There was no other explanation for his scar playing up and the faulty visions from the night before. Even at that moment, his scar was softly tingling, faint but present. Harry had thought that he would have been free from the terror that was Tom Riddle. How stupid had he been? Voldemort had said it himself, _'There is no escaping me, Harry, even if I die today, I will continue to plague you. Nothing can stop me.'_

And so he had been right.

There was no running from Voldemort. During the five years that Harry had lived in solitude, away from his true home, there had been no throbbing scar or flashes of another's mind. It had been _blank_. But now, after he had finally returned, expecting to be able to live freely, _He_ decided to make an appearance; beginning with the death of Dave.

"I'm so sorry Dave," Harry whispered, as a tear ran down his cheek. He didn't bother to wipe it away, as another raced it from the other eye. Slowly, he sobbed. The twenty-two year old man cried on the floor of his girlfriends home, broken and lost. Just as he had been five years ago. He felt so isolated and alone, once more haunted by the Dark Lord from beyond the grave.

Unbidden, a pair of clear sky eyes flashed through his mind, holding that familiar twinkle. The face of his headmaster, happy and _alive_ swam before his vision. Harry clamped his eyes shut, pressing against them with his palms.

"Go away," he said, his voice breaking with pain. When he removed his hands, his eyes were wet and red, but still tears managed to slip down his cheeks. The headmaster looked down at him, from over the top of his half moon spectacles. And he smiled.

"Fancy a lemon drop?" Albus Dumbledore said, holding out a wrinkled hand, with a yellow sweet sitting in his palm. Harry sobbed loudly, and with a shaking hand reached up and took the lemon drop. He sucked his breath in quickly when his hand came into contact with the old man's hand and he let a sob escape him.

"H-how?" he stammered eyes wide and shimmering. The headmaster smiled, popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

"Ah," he said, "The many mysteries of life." Dumbledore smiled down at him and tapped his nose, eyes twinkling. Harry's shoulders started shaking and he let his hands drop uselessly.

"I killed you, I-I'm so sorry!" Harry stuttered, as the headmaster only stared down at him sadly.

"Oh, really? I must have been seeing things when I spotted Tom shoot the spell that took my life. Alas, old age can do that to you," Albus said, looking around the bathroom curiously as Harry struggled to comprehend what was happening. "I believe I know this place! It looks remarkably familiar."

"I-It's the Burrow," Harry said, painfully aware he could see the opposite wall through Dumbledore's midnight robes.

"Ah, yes!" The headmaster said, "Now I remember."

"Sir, wh-what are y-you doing here? Yo-you're d-dead!" Harry said, tears streaking down his face as he covered his face with his hands. There was a silence, in which the transparent old man looked down at his old, broken student.

"For many reasons, one is the fact that you need guidance. And another is that down here I can actually _taste _my lemon drops!" Dumbledore said merrily, placing another sweet in his mouth. "Now, on with the guiding. Even if I am only a figment of your imagination, thought up to help you, I still contain my own mind and words. Ok…hmmm, what to say – what to say?" the old man pondered, running a hand through his long white beard. "Ah, yes! You, my dear boy, did not kill me. It was Tom, plain and simple. I do not blame you in any way, for it was not your fault. Quite the opposite actually," Dumbledore said chuckling softly.

Harry looked up at him, eyes stinging from the many raw emotions and running tears. "I knew what I was doing," he continued as if Harry was not even there. "It was my own choice to die for you, as if I had not – who knows what might have happened? Voldemort might _actually_ be still alive."

Harry removed his hands from his face, "What?" he stammered and felt his stomach drop as he noticed that the bathroom was once again empty. Harry looked around in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. The steady drip of the shower returned and he looked out of the window at the rising sun.

"Thanks," he whispered, as another tear rolled down his cheek.

He continued to sit in the small bathroom until noises from downstairs drew his attention. He sat on the tiles for a moment longer, trying to get his breathing back on track. For the last hour, after the hallucination of Albus Dumbledore had vanished, Harry had sorted through his thoughts and memories, bringing back torrents of pain and sorrow. He remembered each visit to the headmaster's office and each piece of advice the old man had given him.

Over his years at Hogwarts, Harry had mixed feelings over Dumbledore. From awe to disbelief, annoyance to understanding, then dislike to equality. The late headmaster had made him feel equal, as if he was the same, in every aspect. In the end, they had become close friends, and Dumbledore had become a sort of grandfather and mentor. And loosing him was like loosing a part of himself.

It was almost like loosing Sirius. Harry had known Dumbledore since the very beginning. Since he had discovered he was a wizard. The headmaster had mostly always been there to guide him and lend information, even if it was hollow and useless. He had begun to dislike the headmaster in his fifth year because of Dumbledore distancing himself from Harry, and never looking him in the eye. Harry had not understood why he had done that until half way through his sixth year, when the nightmares and visions became so intense that he had to go to bed each night with a goblet of dreamless sleep potion.

Every day he would get savage headaches, and his scar would be constantly stinging. Even at one point it spilt open; it baffled Madam Pomfrey for months, and it probably still did to this day. Harry had been forced to learn Occlumency and Legiliumcy, in a desperate attempt to block out Voldemort. But he had been forced to study it with Severus Snape and for a while, their hatred got in the way of proper teaching. After a few months of agonising headaches and collapses, Harry and Snape managed to put aside their mutual dislike, for the sake of killing Voldemort.

During the summers, he had been forced to undergo serious training, to build up his body and soul. He had demanded Hermione, Ron and Ginny be allowed to train with him, as their friendship put them at great risk. So during his sixth year, he had to continue through his classes acting as if everything was normal, while at nights he trained once more.

Quidditch became his only release. The feel of the wind whipping through his hair and the weightlessness of being in the sky, made all his troubles disappear. It was only him and his Firebolt, floating along the clouds. But as soon as his feet touched earth, everything would flood back: his training, the war and his destiny.

Soon, thoughts of surviving the war grew grim and he desperately tried to spend as much time with his friends as humanly possible. When his sixth year was coming to a close, Voldemort had tried to bring the battle to Hogwarts, but only managed to get to Hogsmeade. The villagers had been unprepared, and many lost their lives because of it.

Harry and the DA had quickly gone to the scene, fighting the Death Eaters with a savage fury. The professors and Order Members had fought as well, with few losses. At the end of the night, Voldemort gave up, Disapparating away with his loyal servants. That night had been a terrible blow to the Wizarding world. Hogsmeade had almost completely fallen, and if it hadn't been for the students and the Order, it would have been no more than a street of burning shops and dead bodies.

Many people had fled after the strike, afraid Voldemort would attack again. But others stayed, in hopes of rebuilding the historic town. After all, the safest place was Hogwarts and as long as they were only a carriage ride away from Albus Dumbledore, they were safe.

The headmaster proved to be the authority figure he was, as he spoke to the community, quelling their fears and placing hope once more in their hearts.

And he continued to believe in Harry.

He believed Harry was able to rise and destroy Voldemort for the last time. His belief never wavered, and he stuck by the Boy-Who-Lived right to the end, until he was no longer able to support him: until his own life had been taken. And even then, he continued to help him. While Harry had watched the headmaster fall swiftly to the ground, a voice spoke in his head.

"_**I believe in you."**_

And that was what had given him to strength to finish Voldemort for the final time. It was what carried him through the pain and endless darkness. The headmaster had given his last advice.

Harry let out a low, rattling breath, remembering the time after Voldemort had fallen. Immediately after the Dark Lord fell to the grass below, with dark blood spilling from his fatal wound and his eyelids shuddering closed, hiding the blood-red eyes of Harry's nightmares. And Harry had watched Voldemort's chest rise for the last time and as the final foul breath left his lipless mouth. And when he was sure the Dark Lord wasn't going to rise, he dropped the bloodstained sword to the grass and turned to look at the fallen form of Albus Dumbledore.

Even in death, the old man looked majestic. With his flowing silver hair and beard spilled out on the bloody grass, his face pale and peaceful, and his wand still clamped with a wrinkled hand. His half-moon spectacles lay shattered at his side.

Harry had collapsed at his side, hand reaching out to touch the headmaster's calm yet still face. Silent tears dribbled from his tired eyes, catching the blood on his cheeks and running past his chin. His own hands were bloodstained and cut, his face no better. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from Dumbledore's closed lids.

It had been the most painful experience in his entire life. It had felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest, letting him slowly bleed to death. A thousands knives were stabbing into his skin, piercing through bone, digging into his soul. To finally be rid of Voldemort at such a great price was a tremendous blow to him. It felt as though the world had ended, as if Voldemort had won.

Back in the bathroom, Harry sobbed loudly, covering his face with his shaking hands. The vision of Dumbledore lying lifeless on the grounds of Hogwarts came fresh to his mind. Seeing the headmaster's face so still and blank, so _lifeless_, brought unnatural amounts of pain cascading down on him. He couldn't breath. The room suddenly seemed to be closing in on him, and he briefly thought himself back in his old cupboard. And an icy cold wind started to slowly freeze his tears and heart as he remembered those words.

"_**I believe in you."**_

And the meaning of those words echoed through his head and he finally found air entering his lungs. The room expanded and the sunlight allowed his tears to drip freely from his chin, and be dissolved into his dark shirt. The vision of Dumbledore from earlier came unbidden to his mind, and his words surfaced clearly audible.

"_It was my own choice to die for you, as if I had not – who knows what might have happened? Voldemort might actually be still alive."_

The sunlight brightened and Harry brushed away his tears. The words continued to ring through his head as he pondered their meaning. After a few moments, he chuckled darkly. Dumbledore was saving him from depression once again, even though he had been long buried for five years.

A knock sounded on the door, and Harry jumped in surprise. "Harry? Are you in there?" It was Hermione and she sounded concerned. Hastily climbing to his feet, ignoring the fact that he couldn't feel his lower back, he splashed water on his face. After wiping it with a towel, his eyes still looked a little blood shot and his face was slightly pale, but he couldn't hide out in here until he looked normal again. Hermione was standing just outside the door.

"Erm – hang on!" he said, glancing at his face once again, before flattening his hair and opening the door. Hermione's concerned brown eyes met his and she pushed inside, shutting the door behind her.

"What's wrong?" she asked immediately. Harry sighed; there was no dodging by her.

"Nothing," he said smiling sadly, as she glared quickly at him.

"Harry Potter, I've known you for over ten years, please, talk to me?" she said, taking his hand lightly, and squeezing it. Sighing, he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, bringing her with him.

"I had a dream," he said as she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "It was kind of – disjointed. There were flashes of faces and voices, that was about all. But my scar hurt again…" he said painfully as she squeezed his hand tightly.

"Was it bad?" she said in barely a whisper. Shaking his head he said, "No, it's was as faint as the others. But just the fact that it has feeling is what bothers me."

"I know. It's really strange, Harry. Maybe –"

"No, maybes, Hermione. I know it has something to do with this new Dark Lord, and they _must _have something to do with Voldemort, otherwise there would be no reason for my scar to hurt. I just need to know what the connection is!" he said angrily, staring savagely at the mirror, wincing as it cracked.

"We all want to know who this new Dark Lord is," Hermione said, repairing the mirror with a wave of her wand. "I've searched all records on Voldemort and these new attacks. But I can't find any matching leads! There's nothing suggesting they even _is_ a connection!" she said, sighing loudly.

"Don't worry, something should come up. I'll look into it as well. Anyway," he said, changing the subject; he didn't really feel like explaining about his hallucination or breakdown, "When are we going to get our things for teaching?" Hermione seemed to know he was trying to change the subject but didn't press the topic.

"I was thinking of going today, because I need to get a few other things from my old apartment and maybe even look for a new one," she said standing up, pulling him up after her. "Have you decided where you're going to stay?"

"Not really, maybe I'll look for a new apartment as well, or else room in with you," he said, giving her a lopsided grin. She laughed.

"That would only work if you're not as messy as Ron; if that's even possible…," she said as the two of them laughed, leaving the bathroom. Harry almost forgot about his dream and the appearance of Dumbledore, but the old headmaster's words still echoed in his head.

"_It was my own choice to die for you, as if I had not – who knows what might have happened? Voldemort might actually be still alive."_

Chuckling grimly, he thought '_That's one possible suspect out of the way; Voldemort is _dead_.'_ And straight from Dumbledore's mouth, even if he was only a figment of Harry's imagination, his words still sounded genuine.

…………------------…………------------…………

"Where have you been? I went looking for you before but couldn't find you! I sent Hermione to look for you almost half an hour ago!" Ginny said as they walked into the kitchen together, still holding hands. Harry smiled gratefully at Hermione as she squeezed his hand one last time before letting it go.

"Oh, he was just in the bathroom and we got engaged in a conversation about our plans for the day," Hermione said simply, sitting beside Ron and pinching a piece of his toast. Harry kissed Ginny on the cheek before sitting next to her. He looked over at Ron who made a fake gagging sound.

"Shut it, Ron!" Ginny said, passing Harry a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, which he eagerly accepted. "So what are you two doing today?" she asked, sipping at a glass of orange juice.

"We're going into Diagon Alley and getting our work things, books and what not. Then we're heading back to France for a while to get some more of my things, and then go looking for an apartment," Hermione said, buttering herself some toast.

"Nonsense, you both can stay here!" Molly Weasley said, as she entered the room.

"Thanks, Molly, but we wouldn't want to intrude. Besides, it would be better for me not to stay here, with this new Dark Lord and everything," Harry said, remembering the fate of his last home.

"Don't be silly. You're more than welcome here!" Mrs Weasley said, bustling over to the sink.

"I think Harry's right, Molly," Hermione said, nodding, getting surprised looks from all at the table. "Not in that way, but we're older now and need to live on our own." Harry nodded and grinned at her, than at Molly who was looking quite apprehensive over the whole ordeal.

"You should know, though, that there will always be a bed for you here," she said warmly.

"Well, I'm off to work," Ron said, standing and placing his dishes in the sink. "Dad said I can start a little later today," he added at Harry's curious look. "Come get me when you find a place to stay, and if you can't find anywhere, you can always stay at my place."

"You're place? I thought you lived here still?" Harry said a little confused. Ron snorted in laughter.

"Are you insane? I moved out a few months after Hogwarts. It's the single life for me!" he said in glee, smirking at Harry's astonished expression.

"Who cooks for you?" Harry asked bemusedly.

Ron scowled. "I am quite capable of getting my own meals!"

"Or you're quite capable of coming here every night to eat!" Ginny said, laughing while Ron's face reddened.

"Stop distracting me!" Ron said loudly, "I'm going to be late!" With that, he kissed his mother on the cheek and disapparated with a _crack_. Harry was still laughing when Ron vanished, and gulped down his juice.

"Yeah, I should be going as well," Ginny said standing and placing her plate in the sink just as Ron had. "The kids will be arriving soon."

Harry stared at her in puzzlement. "Kids? I thought you worked with Charlie?" he asked as Ginny raised an eyebrow at him.

"I worked with Charlie for a few months but the dragons didn't like me very much. I now work in a childcare centre in outer London. It's for magical children of course, when their parents are off working I look after them," she said cheerily.

"Oh, Ok…" Harry said, glad she was working a little closer to home. "I might stop by later today, what's it called?" he asked her.

"_Hippogriff's Heart,_" she answered, picking up a leather bag from the top of a cabinet near the fridge. "You can't miss it, just follow the main road out of the city and it's on the right. I'll look forward to seeing you," she said sweetly, planting a kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, Harry was grinning stupidly.

"Bye," she said before disappearing with a _crack_.

"Me and Harry should be going soon, before the alley gets too busy," Hermione said, helping out with the dishes in the sink. Harry nodded and placed his plate on top of the pile.

"Yeah, thanks for letting me stay here for so long, Molly," Harry said, hugging Mrs Weasley tightly. When he pulled away, he was surprised to see tears in the woman's eyes.

"It's just so good to have you all back," she sobbed, wiping away the tears. "Feel free to come by anytime, now won't you?" she said as Harry and Hermione nodded quickly, both smiling.

After they had gathered their things for the day, including their Gringotts keys, they disapparated away from the Burrow's kitchen, arriving in the Apparation point in Diagon Alley.

"Going to get money first?" Harry said to Hermione as they moved quickly away, glad the streets were still empty this time of day.

"Yes, we should," she said as the two of them walked side by side along the winding alley, shops just opening on either side. They soon caught sight of the grand Wizarding bank Gringotts and made their way up the marble steps and through the double doors. The goblins greeted them inside and showed them to an empty cart. Hermione clutched at his arm as the goblin readied to take off.

"I hate these things," she said, squealing when they quickly descended into the deep bowels of the bank. They continued down, stopping at Hermione's vault to let her pick up some gold. She had all her money from the Gringotts bank in France moved to the one in Britain, which Harry found was quite a lot. They soon took off again, going deeper than before. The cart lurched to a stop at Harry's vault and the two of them and the goblin piled from the carriage.

But when the doors opened, revealing the contents of his vault, he almost fainted. The chamber had been expanded at least four times and it was completely full of golden Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts. Even Hermione looked shocked and they stood staring at it for at least ten minutes before the goblin asked if something was wrong.

"Wrong? What? I – where did all this gold come from? It can't all be _mine_!" he said in disbelief, his eyes scanning the vault as if it was alive.

"Everything is in order, Mr Potter. Much interest has collected over the years and certain inheritances have been passed," the goblin said, curling its brown lip.

"Inheritances?" Harry said dumbly, wondering what was going on.

"Yes, inheritances," the goblin said, "From one Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore."

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**Disclaimer- **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Hey…duh, duh, duh! See, I told you I would post a long chapter when I got 200 reviews! Which happened to be a few hours ago and I realised I hadn't even started this chapter. But I think it came out OK, do you agree? I wasn't going to put that Dumbledore-hallucination thing in, because it seemed a little odd. But, oh well, I kept it there.**

**Oh yeah, those things I told you the last chapter about what was coming soon, wasn't applying to this chapter alone. They will be spaced out over them all, which I don't know how many there will be yet.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you're the greatest and thanks to CharliesMommy who was the two hundredth reviewer! This chapter is dedicated to you!**

**Please review!**

**Bye**

**DW**


	22. Gringotts Gold and Priceless Memories

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**Gringotts Gold and Priceless Memories**

"P-pardon?" Harry stammered, his heart beating painfully in his chest. Hermione was gripping his upper arm tightly, her nails digging into his skin. He could hardly feel it. His eyes were staring at the goblin, ears straining, hoping he had heard wrong.

"Several years ago, after the death of Albus Dumbledore, his will was invoked. And, as we were unable to contact you, we went ahead and complied with Mr. Dumbledore's last orders, and transferred half of his accounts and properties over to you, as he did not have any remaining family, apart from a distant brother. The rest of the gold was deposited into the private vault of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, under the care of Minerva McGonagall, another of his fund receivers." The goblin said in a dry voice, its dark eyes glittering in the faint candlelight.

"Oh," Harry said, still trying to take in all that was given to him.

"And what of the other inheritance? The one from Sirius Black?" Hermione said, holding his arm encouragingly.

"As Mr Black was a convicted murderer and escapee at the time of his death, his last will and testament was not allowed to be granted by the Minister's law. But when the new Minister Weasley was elected, he released information on Mr Black that proved his innocence almost immediately. With this done, his will was allowed to be read, and it stated that three quarters of his Family and Personal Vaults be passed onto you, as well as certain properties and possessions. But as we could not contact you for this reading as well, the possessions were passed on to a Mr Lupin who also was given the remaining percent of gold and one property in London." The goblin was now watching Harry's expression with utmost curiosity and continued, "Your vaults are one of the highest priorities in this bank, Mr Potter, and now that we are able to speak with you, we would like to move your vaults down to the more secure, bottom sections that have a higher security charge and protection."

"Ok," Harry said in a blank voice, his eyes still staring over the goblin's left shoulder. Hermione was holding his hand and arm tightly, her eyes and face masked with concern and empathy. Harry could not or would not take this in. The mere fact the Albus Dumbledore had left him _anything_ was causing his insides to squirm. Deep inside his heart, he still blamed himself for Dumbledore's death. Even after the vision earlier, and his headmaster's wise words, he still couldn't let go of the guilt and pain residing inside him.

But before he could ponder this further, something the goblin had said struck him as odd. "Hang on! Vault_s_? What do you mean by vault_s_?" he said hurriedly as the goblin looked up carefully.

"As in plural, Mr Potter. This is the vault with all your gold and financial wealth. In vault 688, right beside this one, are all your material possessions, such as property contracts, birth certificates, photographs, things like that." The goblin said, walking down the stone pathway towards the next vault. Hermione pulled his arm lightly, directing him to follow the soft glow of the lantern.

When the vault doors slid open, Harry stumbled backwards in awe. But he soon got over his surprise and took a few steps inside, as many candles in the chamber lit, illuminating the things piled up against the walls and in large crates on the floor. Books lined the walls in long bookcases, covers thick with dust and age. Odd objects sat in boxes; some were painfully familiar as they once sat on Albus Dumbledore's desk at Hogwarts.

Harry stepped into the centre of the room, his eyes wide and scanning the objects now his. He spotted portraits lying inside crates and made a beeline for them, thoughts jumbling through his mind. Picking up quite a large canvas, he gazed upon the motionless figures. And almost had a heart attack.

"Excuse me, sir?" Harry said nervously to the goblin not knowing its name. The goblin looked incredibly shocked to have been called '_sir_', but stepped inside anyway, bowing slightly. "How did these get in here and where did they come from?" he said with a shaky voice.

After glancing at the portrait, the gobbling said, "They came from you family vault, Mr Potter. When you turned of age, you were allowed entrance to your complete family fortune, containing these portraits and other items. They were transferred here instead of being kept in another vault; to give you easier access."

Harry nodded in acknowledgment, holding the portrait before him with utter care. Upon the canvas, smiling up at him with sparkling hazel and green eyes, were his parents. They were both standing in front of another couple; the man had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, while the woman had black curls, framing an aged but delicate face. Harry looked into his mother's eyes, so much like his own, and felt the room drop away.

They looked so happy. Sitting together, holding hands, and gazing out of the canvas, with complete love for the person beside them. Harry noticed a certain likeness with the older people and his father, and gathered that they were his grandparents. The portrait looked old but was in perfect condition, and as he sat it down, he noticed more like it. He traced his fingers over their golden frames, feeling his eyes stinging with unwanted tears.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice brought him from his thoughts and he turned to see her watching him, a concerned look in her brown eyes. He smiled faintly, wiping away a tear that had been trickling from his eye.

"I'm fine," he said although it felt as though something was missing inside him. Something important. "We should probably go," he said as he continued to wander around the room. The goblin had taken post outside the vault in respect and Hermione had ventured over to the bookshelves and was scanning the titles with an open mouth.

Meanwhile, Harry had stumbled upon a box of property contracts and was viewing them in awe. Apparently, he had inherited a small flat in middle London, a few blocks from his previous apartment; a small cottage just outside Scotland which had once belonged to his mother; and a small estate in the outskirts of London, named –

"– _Godric's Hollow_!" Harry breathed, almost dropping the parchment in his excitement.

"What did you say, Harry?" Hermione called from the opposite end of the chamber. Her voice echoed around in the high rooved vault, reaching Harry's ears after it bounced from all four walls.

"Nothing!" He called back, unable to rip his eyes away from the piece of paper. A hand on his shoulder startled him so badly that he automatically reached for his wand, before seeing Hermione's eyes gazing curiously at him. "Sorry." He murmured, wondering how she crossed the room so quickly.

"What's that?" she asked softly, trying to see the contract over his shoulder. He passed it to her, and watched, as her eyes grew large and glistening.

"Oh, Harry! Isn't this –?"

"Yes. The place where I used to live. The place where my parents were killed," he said softly. The memory brought pain to his heart, and his mother's screams grew louder in his mind. Hermione's voice broke his miserable train of thought.

"But I thought it was destroyed?" she asked curiously, passing the parchment back to him.

"It must have been rebuilt, then." Harry said resignedly, placing the slip of paper back into the brown box. She smiled sympathetically. "We should get going before it gets too late. I can always come back another time." Harry took one last glance at all his belongings, before striding purposely across the room and out of the vault doors. Hermione followed him closely, both of them watching as the goblin locked the door behind them.

Harry's bag was heavy with gold by the time the cart rolled to a stop, and they followed the goblin back up into the foyer, towards a high, mahogany desk.

"I will get your new keys, Mr Potter, and I will need your signatures on this, this and this," the goblin said, passing him three sheets of parchment. Harry signed them quickly as the goblin pulled out a new key and waved over it with one, long fingered, hand. The golden key glowed white for a few seconds before settling back to normal. "There you go, Mr Potter. Your gold and possessions have been moved to vault numbers 67 and 68." Harry nodded and swapped his old key for the new one, placing it securely in his pocket.

"Thank you so much." Harry said as he and Hermione left a very bewildered goblin behind. The sunshine assaulted their eyes as they entered the street. Unfortunately, it was busier. Witches and wizards were mobbing outside stores, and lugging shopping backs along the cobbled paths. Children were playing in the dirt, laughing in joy. Harry groaned, bowing his head as they made their way down the steps and towards _Flourish and Blotts._

They entered the crowded bookstore with a soft _jingle_, and split up; Harry heading to the Defence section while Hermione went straight to the Transfiguration isle. As he walked down the towering rows of books, Harry ran his fingers along the spines, reading the titles with interest. He pulled out a book called _Dark Age Defence to New Age Security: All You Need to Know._ He opened it and started scanning the pages, thinking about buying it, as it would be great to teach from.

By the time he and Hermione met up at the front desk, both their arms were loaded with books of all sizes. They dropped them onto the counter, heaving from such a large weight.

"I also picked one of these up for you, Harry." Hermione said, showing him a medium sized, leather bound book. "It's a class schedule, so you can write down all the times of your classes and what you're doing in them. I'm getting one as well." Harry grinned at her, shaking his head as he added the book to his large pile.

"Thanks, Hermione, trust you to be always prepared!" he laughed as she just smiled. Twenty-two Galleons lighter, they exited the store after shrinking their books and placing them in their pockets.

"Merlin I'm glad we can do magic." Harry exclaimed with a laugh. Hermione swatted his arm, pulling him towards the supplies store, to buy piles of blank parchment, quills and ink (red and black). Harry had just passed the witch behind the desk eight Galleons, three sickles, when he heard a multitude of chatter outside the store. He went to see what it was when Hermione appeared in front of him looking flushed.

"Don't go out there, Harry." She warned, wand in hand and hair sticking out of its tight bond.

"Why?" he asked curiously, trying to see past her through the window. It seemed that many witches had their faces pressed against the glass, trying to see something inside. "What's happening out there?" he asked again, as Hermione clamped her hands tightly around his shoulders. The door was buckling under the pressure of so many bodies pushed against it, and the store clerk had to place a Fastening Charm over it to stop everyone entering.

"Trust me; you don't want to go out there!" she said again, looking quite fearful. Harry was getting frustrated.

"Then tell me what's –" he didn't finish his sentence. Outside the window, right at the front of the milling crowd, was Rita Skeeter, with cameraman at her side. Around her were other reporters holding cameras. Flashes went off as he looked over at the window, causing him to go partially blind. Spots appeared in front of his eyes as he felt Hermione's hands tighten.

"Shi –"

"Do you have a back way out of here?" Hermione said, cutting Harry's swearing off.

The owner of the shop stuttered for several moments before he gulped and spoke. "Are you re-really _Harry Potter_?" she stammered clutching at the wooden desk. Both Hermione and Harry growled.

"Yes! Now, how do we get out of here?" Harry said turning his back on the screaming people outside to stare intently at the witch. She stared at him for over a minute, mouth open and moving soundlessly.

"Uhhh – that way!" she said, pointing to a door behind the counter.

"Thank you!" Hermione said, grabbing their things from the table and a handful of Harry's shirt. She pulled him across the store, with Harry glaring angrily to the people outside. They stumbled through the back door, entering a dark storeroom. They wandered around blindly for a few moments before a crash came from in the store just as Harry's hand found a doorknob. He yanked it open, gasping as a sheet of sunshine spilled onto him.

He and Hermione bolted into the grimy alley, hands full of quills and parchment. "Quick, Apparate to my apartment!" Hermione said as the reporters busted through the storeroom door. Camera flashes went off but not before Harry and Hermione disappeared with identical _cracks._ A multiple groan ran through the crowd.

…………**------------…………------------…………**

Harry appeared in the familiar setting of Hermione's old apartment. Everything was silent, apart from Hermione dumping her things on the table. The sun was shining through the window, lighting the pale carpet and floral couches. He placed his things beside Hermione's, shrinking them in the process. After stuffing them in his pockets with his miniaturized books, he went to work making them both a cup of tea. As his back was turned, he didn't see Hermione slip from the room and re-enter it with something in her arms.

"Happy belated birthday, Harry." She said. Harry turned and dropped the mug he was holding.

"Hedwig!" he yelled, running forwards and pausing in front of his beloved snowy owl. She looked older; her feathers were softer and spotted with grey, but her eyes looked the same. She went ballistic in her cage, and as soon as Hermione unlocked the door of her cage, she flew through. Harry laughed in delight as Hedwig flew around his head, hooting quickly. She settled on his arm as Harry brought her up to his neck. She nipped his chin, burrowing her head into the side of his head.

"Hi, girl! I never thought I'd see you again! How are you!" he said lovingly, stroking her back and wings softly.

"I was meant to give her to you for your birthday but I couldn't get away without you noticing. I'm sorry it took so long to give her back, but –" she was cut off by Harry laughing happily.

"This is the best birthday present anyone could ever give me!" he shouted. _Ginny's present aside_, the thought with a chuckle. "I thought she was dead! But it proves she's made of stronger stuff!" he exclaimed, sighing when he looked into his birds golden eyes. They were reunited. His first and forever friend back by his side.

"I thought you might like it." Hermione said with a smile, walking into the kitchen to repair the broken mug and finish the tea. They spent a few hours in Hermione's old apartment, waiting for Pru. But when one o'clock rolled around with still no sign of her, Hermione gave up.

"I'll just leave her a note, telling her I've picked up the rest of my stuff and I'll come by around Christmas," she said, scribbling down on a piece of paper and sticking it to the fridge. Harry nodded, happy thoughts gone. He remembered when he told Dave he would come back at Christmas, to see Sophie.

_Oh, Sophie._ He thought with heartache. The poor girl had lost her brother in the worst possible way, and the worst part was that Harry was part of that pain. If she ever knew why her brother died, it would tear her up inside. It still did to him. And it always would. Dave's death wouldn't stop Harry from visiting them at Christmas. They deserved to be remembered, not forgotten like so many others. It would be a hard day seeing them again, as it would remind him of his dead friend and the times gone.

He would not forget Dave. Or Dumbledore. Or the times they shared together and the memories they built.

Never.

…………**------------…………------------…………**

– **Disclaimer –**

I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**G'day peoples.**

**Heres the next chapter, sorry it took a while to update but I wrote it all today…sigh. There's probably a few spelling mistakes because I thought this chapter was pretty boring and I couldn't bring myself to re-read it. LOL. I think that happens to all my chapters, haha.**

**HEDWIG'S BACK!**

**Yay, I forgot about her until now, so I brought her back! I love Hedwig. I was going to say she had died but I couldn't bring myself to do that to her. Please tell me if I've already said she died and I'll go back and fix it up. I don't think I have, but who knows what I've written! LOL.**

**That Lionel Richie song at the start is so sad. I hate it but I love it. Every time I hear it, it makes me remember all the people that have died. It makes me want to cry! I thought I was appropriate for this chapter, with Harry remembering Dave, Dumbledore and Sirius. As well as his parents. Please review and all that and the next chapter will be Ginny's party and the chapter after that will be Harry and Hermione returning to Hogwarts! YES! That's when everything will start off, LOL. I can't wait! **

**Please review and all that, and thanks to everyone who has so far!**

**Later Days…**

**DW**


	23. The Second Hand Rose

_**BEHIND EMERALD EYES**_

**The Second Hand Rose**

"What do you think of this one?" Hermione asked him, as they stood in the middle of the bare Living Room. The apartment was quite large, with three bedrooms, kitchen, toilet and bathroom, Living Room and even a balcony that ran the length of the outside. It was on the fifth floor of a tall apartment block in the outer edge of the city. Even though it was the third place they had looked at in the last two hours, it was the best by far. Hermione was a little bit edgy because of the height, but she said she could cope because it had a high railing to stop people falling.

Harry nodded and smiled. "I like it. And there's a bare wall there to put a big bookcase!" he said, pointing to the wall opposite them. He glanced at Hermione whose face had lit up at the prospect of a wall-length bookcase.

"I think we should get this one." She said, nodding her head with a grin.

"So you would like to purchase this one?" asked Rebecca Gibson, the realtor for the building. Harry and Hermione looked at each other with a smile and a nod.

"Definitely." They said in unison, while the blond woman smiled, and began writing down on her clipboard.

"So, would you like to rent it or buy it straight out?" she asked. Harry motioned Hermione over, away from the woman's hearing.

"We should rent it for a while, because we have to go to Hogwarts in a month." Harry whispered to her, glancing warily at Rebecca. But she was only smiling, and looking around the room with false interest.

"I know, but we could always come here after classes and during the holidays." Hermione said knowingly, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Can we do that?" Harry asked with curiosity. He had never known that some of the teachers went home at the end of the day; he had always thought they stayed in their own quarters in the school.

"Of course we can. Most of the professors do it; they go home to their own families instead of staying in their rooms at Hogwarts." She said with a smile, as Harry shook his head.

"Do you know everything?" he asked with a chuckle. Hermione only smiled and tapped her nose, as both of them straightened out and walked back over to the witch.

"We would like to buy it, please."

**...------------...------------...**

A taxi pulled up at the curb after Harry flagged it down. Climbing in and shutting the door, the driver turned and looked at him. "Where to, mate?" he asked in a thick Scottish accent.

"Erm–" should he say the name of the day care centre or what? "–you don't know where Hippogriff's Heart Child Care Centre is by any chance?" Harry asked with a thumping heart. The cab driver's eyes squinted at him through a thick fringe of charcoal hair.

"Is that the red place in Lachlan Way?" he asked, scratching his bushy eyebrow with a sausage-like finger. Harry was completely baffled.

"Is it on the right?" he asked stupidly, feeling that Ginny's directions were incredibly bad. The cab driver smiled, giving view to a row of brown teeth.

"Sure is. But I think it closed down years ago; the windows are all boarded and doors falling off. Do you still want to go there?" he asked and when Harry nodded absently, he turned and put the engine into motion –– then they were off. Building after building passed Harry by in a hurried blur. They were stopped by two red lights, but all the others were green. The roads were not as bust as they usually were at this time of the day, but it still took them nearly three quarters of an hour to reach the end of the city.

Harry turned his attention to the right side of the taxi, and kept his eyes peeled for a red building. Finally, as they turned into Lachlan Way, Harry spotted a small, red cottage, with a thin stream of smoke snaking its way from a skinny chimney.

"A weird name isn't it?" the cab driver said as Harry pulled out his wallet. "I'm not too sure what the hell 'Hippogriff' even means. Do you?" the burley man asked as Harry handed him the correct money.

Shaking his head with a laugh, he said: "Nope, sorry. Thanks." And with that, Harry climbed form the car and shut the door behind him, not bothering to turn as the cab sped off. A small sign sat beneath the letter box, with gold letters spelling the name of the centre. _It was have an illusion on it for the muggles. _Harry thought with a chuckle, stepping through the gate with a soft _squeak._

He walked up the cobbled path, hearing sounds of laughter and screaming coming from behind the tall, brown door. A sign hanging on the door said **Enter**, so that's what he did. A bell rang through the place and Harry almost stumbled in shock at what he saw. On the outside, the place looked incredibly small, with no more than two rooms. But inside was another story. The place was _huge._ The ceiling was at least three times as high as the cottage roof, and it was longer by more than four times.

Children were running around wildly, screaming and laughing in joy. Others were sitting on the floor, playing with colorful toys, or else listening to adults reading books in the corners. On one side of the room, were many bed rolls for when the children had to sleep, and in a separate room on the opposite side, was a kitchen with many small tables and chairs.

Harry stood by the entrance for a complete ten minutes, eyes wide and staring. He couldn't imagine Ginny working in a place like this. Even though she had been incredibly patient and good natured in Hogwarts, she didn't seem like the type to spend every day chasing after squealing children, or cleaning up accidents. Harry knew she liked children, he did as well, but it would be hard looking after so many of them, day after day.

As he was lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed a small girl run up to him and start tugging on his pants. "Excuse me, mister, who're you?" Harry looked down at her voice, and grinned broadly. The girl didn't even reach his hips. She had brown hair parted into pigtails and bright blue eyes. Her face was coated in freckles, and she was holding a bright pink, plastic broom. Harry knelt down to her level and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"My name's Harry, what's yours?" he asked softly, as she giggled.

"Lucy. What are you doing here?" she asked directly, poking him in the chest. Harry smiled and looked around, searching for the red hair of his girlfriend.

"Do you know a lady that works here, with bright orange hair? Her name's Ginny." He asked her, as she smiled and took his hand, nodding quickly.

"Yes! Ginny's my favorite lady here, she's real nice. Do you know her?" Lucy said tugging him to his feet and dragging him towards the back of the long room.

"Yes, I do. She's a very good friend of mine." Harry said; the little girls hand so small and fragile in his large one. Lucy nodded her petite head, her pigtails flopping up and down on either side of her face. She lead him through the many playing children, over toys, around slides and plastic forts, finally pulling him over to where a group of children were sitting on the carpet, listening to a woman reading a book. Lucy pulled him to the ground, where she sat next to him. Her little finger pointed to the reader and she smiled.

Harry looked over at Ginny, who was reading a tale about a bother and sister who were lost in the woods. Harry vaguely remembered the story from when he had heard his aunt reading it to Dudley when they were young. The walls had been thin between their rooms, and Harry had managed to listen as the story of Hansel and Gretel came to life.

Ginny continued to read from the book, completely oblivious that Harry was listening from the crowd of youngsters. Lucy had climbed onto his knee so she could be higher then everyone else, her hand still clutching Harry's. The story progressed, with the children laughing and gasping in all the right places. Harry was finding himself having fun in a strange way; he had missed his own childhood, and this was a way for him to catch up with everyone else.

It was fifteen minutes before Ginny looked up to show the children a colorful picture of a gingerbread house on one of the pages. Her eyes landed on Harry and she almost dropped the book.

"Harry!" she said in a loud voice. "What are you doing here?" Harry grinned before answering.

"Listening to your story!" he said, as all the kids turned to stare at him.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, her cheeks turning red.

"Since Hansel and Gretel were taken into the woods the first time. Now, keep reading, I want to know what happens!" he said with a chuckle as all the children shouted out their agreements. Ginny shook her head in amusement, before clearing her throat, and continuing with the story.

Harry gained another friend on his other knee. His name was Benny, and had blond hair and blue eyes, a younger sister and a pet dog named Charlie. The boy was a talkative one and was now telling Harry what his grandfather's name was when Lucy turned around and told him to be quiet. Harry chuckled and patted them both on the head, mentally thanking the little girl.

**...------------...------------...**

"Did you enjoy the story?" Ginny asked him sometime later, as they wandered around the vast room. Harry had left Lucy and Benny back in the reading area, fighting over a stuffed dragon. They reminded Harry of another couple always bickering, which made him grin. Though Hermione and Ron hardly ever fought anymore, they still had their minor squabbles, which meant the old flame was still lit between them.

Harry turned to Ginny and smiled brightly. "Sure did. I can't believe how much stuff I missed out on living with the Dursley's." He said with a laugh while Ginny's eyes grew dark.

"Let's not ruin the day with talk of them. C'mon, I'll show you the TV Room." Harry nodded and followed her to the right side of the room, and through a door he hadn't seen before. The TV Room, rather than having a television, had a wand stand opposite a blank white wall. Apparently, a wand was positioned in the wand stand and a spell was spoken, which projected the movie of your choice onto the white wall.

"Like a over-head projector." Harry said with a grin as Ginny gave him a curious look. "Muggle stuff." Was his answer. Looking around the room, he found it quite dark and bare apart from the two of them. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned to Ginny and drew her to him. Their lips locked together, joining them in a fierce, passionate kiss. Harry found them up against the wall, his body pinning Ginny against it with force. She didn't seem to mind, as her hands ran along his chest and his became tangled in her hair.

They became so lost in each other that neither noticed the TV Room door open and the light be switched on. "I though you were just friends?" came the ringing voice of Lucy. Harry and Ginny sprung apart, looking horrified at the small girl, wearing a look of confusion mixed with something Harry recognized as 'I already knew that'. He had seen the look so many times on Hermione's face, that it had become something he familiarized with.

Harry was staring wide-eyed at the girl, throwing embarrassed looks at Ginny. He felt his face burning, and wouldn't have surprised if it started steaming. Ginny was slightly red in the light, but she seemed to be coping better than Harry was.

"Lucy! What have I told you about barging in on people?" Ginny scolded, smoothing the creases from the front of her shirt, and combing her hair back. Harry started, and ran a hand through his own dark locks, flattening them down while trying to keep from sinking into the floor. It was lucky it had been Lucy that had walked in on them and not one of the other care-workers. Now _that _would've been embarrassing.

"Not to?" Lucy said innocently, though a cheeky grin had spread across her young face. Harry chuckled despite the circumstances, gaining two looks from the girls. "You said you were only friends! You lied to me!" Lucy said. She pointed a small finger at Harry who held up his hands in mock surrender.

"We are very good friends, and have been for over ten years!" Harry said with a smile. "That will never change. So it wasn't a lie!" Ginny raised her eyebrows at him and nodded her acceptance of his words as Harry grinned, face still blazing with embarrassment.

"Lucy," Ginny said, kneeling to the young girls height as Harry had done earlier. "Harry and I love each other very much and are the best of friends. You understand, don't you?" Lucy's face grew puzzled and she nodded, slowly.

"I love Benny very much, and he is my best friend, but I don't want to do to him what you two were just doing!" she said as Harry almost choked on his own spit. He looked appallingly to Ginny who was gaping at the girl, her face growing beet red.

"NO! You don't have to do that to Benny. Never. We were only...erm –" Ginny looked to Harry, searching for the right words. Harry shrugged and tried to think of someone to tell the girl.

"Lucy," he said, joining Ginny to kneel in front of the girl. "Ginny had something stuck in her mouth and I was trying to – umm...get it out?" Harry said with a thumping heart. Lucy raised her dark eyebrows.

"With your mouth?" she said as Ginny hit Harry upside the head.

"Yes, that's what he as doing. He couldn't use his hands because I had a bee in my hair and he was trying to get it out. If it hadn't been for Harry, I might have been very sick." Ginny said, clasping a hand on Harry's shoulder. A look of understanding came over her face and Lucy nodded with a broad smile spread across her lips.

"Oh, OK Ginny," she said as she started walking back over to the door. Harry thought she was going to pass through but she stopped and looked around. "And I'm _not_ that stupid, Ginny. I _am_ six." And with that, Lucy flicked off the light and shut the door, her pigtails swinging with each of her small steps.

There was silence in the room as Harry and Ginny looked at each other, both their faces identical in humor and embarrassment. At the same instant, they both erupted into laughter.

**...------------...------------...**

A few days came and went, with Harry spending much of his time in the company of Ginny and the children at Hippogriff's Heart Childcare Centre. Lucy became like the little sister he never had, with her wisdom and knowledge beyond her years, she was starting to remind him of Hermione. She was the daughter of Antonio and Rachel Zabini; Blaise, Antonio's younger brother, had been in Harry's year at Hogwarts, and by the end of sixth year, proved he was not like the others in Slytherin House.

It was nearing Ginny's twenty-first birthday, and Harry had yet to find her a present. He had skived off going to the childcare centre that day, saying he need to get a few more things from Diagon Alley. Ginny had agreed and wished him goodbye with a deep, passionate kiss. Harry was left feeling dazed for a full ten minutes before he remembered where he had to go.

He appeared in the Apparition Point in Diagon Alley, pulling his hood up higher to hide his face. He kept his head bowed to shield his eyes and scar, the first things other's noticed when they looked at him. The streets were full of parents and children purchasing their school supplies for the New Year. He spotted many familiar faces but even more unknown ones. The Wizarding community seemed to have tripled in size since Voldemort's downfall; no one feared that their families would once again be taken away, or killed by the darkness.

It made Harry's heart ache at the thought of another war. Many people were only just recovering from the last one, and any more deaths and battles were bound to push them over the edge. People believed that they were safe, that there was nothing else to harm them and their families. None new of this new Dark Lord and those that did kept quiet the information.

As Harry looked about at the many free and joyous faces, he made a vow to stop the war from growing any larger, if not to stop anymore fear, but to give the children a chance at a clear and safe future. He would not let any live through the middle of war as he and so many others had done. The pain and torture of watching so many families be split and torn apart, was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

It was the day of the eleventh; Ginny's birthday. They would be throwing her a party when she came home from work at around three, and it would stretch deep into the night. Scores of people had been invited and agreed to come, and would be meeting at one-thirty to make the preparations and set everything up. Harry was meant to be the one to take her there after meeting her at Hippogriff's Heart.

It was almost noon and Harry had not found anything suitable as a gift to give Ginny. He gave up looking in the magical alley, and stepped back into the Leaky Cauldron. He skulled down a steaming Butterbeer, enjoying the warm feeling as it settled in his stomach. He paid old Tom for it, and journeyed into London, his pockets full of muggle money. The concrete streets snaked around the looming buildings, packed to the brim with hurrying muggles heading to a busy day at work.

Harry joined the mob of scurrying businessmen and women, his cloak long since shrunk and stuffed into his pocket. He kept his wand tucked into the waistband of his leans, a black shirt covering it from view. He looked like any other young man walking the streets, dressed in noticeable good taste, but with enchanting emerald eyes.

Women looked back at him as he passed them, his eyes only set on a present for Ginny. The muggles parted for him as he walked, for he contained a look of strength and power, though Harry barely noticed.

The roads were packed with smoking automobiles, their engines calling out in the humid summer air, as fumes escaped into the lightly clouded sky. He had been looking in clothing stores, jewelers, and even pet shops; for what, he did not know. Time was growing late, and Harry was heading back to the entrance leading into the Leaky Cauldron, deciding to have one more look in Diagon Alley. He had just passed a café, the smell of coffee and cakes wafting across his nose, when he spotted a small store across the street.

It was a dark building, much smaller and worn than those around it. A small sign hung at the front.

**Antiquities**

Th muggles paid it no heed, and Harry briefly thought it was magical, but when he spotted a woman exit the shop, he realized they only ignored it because it looked so tatty and old. His curiosity peeked; he jogged across the street, weaving between the puffing cars and buses. Walking up to the door, he tried to look through the window; it was so caked with grime that all he spotted were hazy shapes upon the floor.

Looking around and only seeing hurrying muggles, he pushed open the door. A faint bell tinkered in the far reaches of the room, bumping into odd objects and becoming lost in the high shadows of the ceiling. Cobwebs hung from scarred rafters, and across the handlebars of ancient bicycles that sat like metal skeletons in semi-darkness along the wall.

Harry almost coughed on the thick air, but pushed it back down his throat. The silence was so strong that he dared not make a sound, and he feared moving in case his footsteps made noises. The shop was bare from customers apart from him, and he couldn't blame people for walking straight passed the building. But he had always been fascinated with history (not including his History of Magic class with Binns) and he finally made a move to look around.

His fingers made clean tracks though the thick dust coating almost everything lining the shelves. He inspected a few old cabinets, dark and grotesque. He opened them with cautiousness, fearing a Boggart might pounce out and take the form of a Dementor. Luckily, none did.

Many clocks made a chorus of ticking as he made his way to the back of the store, the objects becoming smaller and more delicate. When Harry was just wondering where the owner was, he spotted a long desk at the back of the room. Beneath the wooden counter sat a long glass cabinet, containing speckled utensils, goblets, and costume jewelry. Harry's eyes grew wide as the broaches and charms became more exquisite and ancient. His reflection looked up at him from the glass as he paused in his browsing. Something caught his eye in the cabinet.

A velvet pillow sat cushioning a sparkling silver necklace. It was small and shining, a strange contrast to the heavy metal neckbands sitting just along the row. The chain was thin and was occasionally dotted with diamonds. In the middle sat a charm. It was of a flower, with the chain connecting to each side and changing into delicate silver leaves. The stem wove down a little, inlaid with miniscule emeralds set at equal distances apart; around a millimeter. The head of the flower was beautiful. It seemed to be an opening rose, with the petals pure ruby. A lining of the smallest diamonds ran along the edge and into the middle, showing where the petals ran and where they ended. It glittered in unnatural grace and beauty, and Harry sat mesmerized with the glittering jewels.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

Harry was so startled that he jumped back, knocking into a cast iron corner shelf that had been sitting against a tall cabinet. A blue, porcelain vase, that had been sitting atop the first shelf, teetered, than fell. Harry, from years of Quidditch Training, spun around and grabbed the vase before it could shatter on the scratched wooden floorboards.

"That is a two-century old vase used by the first tenants of London to hold their drinking water." The man said, quickly snatching the vase from Harry's hands and positioned it back on the iron shelf. Harry's heart was beating frantically in his chest and he shook his head to rid it from the momentary flash of fear.

"Then why isn't it in a museum?" Harry asked, finally getting his pulse under control. The old man looked at him through a pure white fringe, his dark eyes shining with pride mixed with faint insanity.

"How can it, when it's already in here?" he said with a grin, tapping Harry's head with a gold walking stick, before turning back to the desk and walking behind it. Harry stood still, fazed by the old shopkeepers strange nature. He shook his head with mild amusement, turning back to look at the enchanting necklace.

"Can I have a look at that?" Harry asked, pointing at the bare cushion. He looked up in confusion to find the old man already holding the necklace out to him. With a puzzled expression, Harry took it carefully from him. The pendant sat perfectly in his palm, the chain draped through his fingers to sway with the steady beat of his heart.

The light hit the gems and reflected into his face, leaving it shining with red, green and white strokes of color. He ran a finger over the opening rose, imagining it clasped around Ginny's long, creamy neck, as if it belonged there. Harry looked up at the storekeeper, the dancing colors lying reflected in his emerald eyes.

"I'll take it."

**...------------...------------...**

It was almost three, and Harry and Ginny had just watched the last of the children go. The place was in much disarray, but with a quick flick of both their wands, the toys returned to their respectful places as did any other objects littered upon the floor. After making sure everything was off in the kitchen, they made their way to the front door, locking it and after switching the light of, blanketing the room in darkness; they disappeared with two reverberating _cracks_.

They reappeared in the very silent Burrow, with both of them laughing at nothing in particular. "Where is everyone?" Ginny asked as Harry took her hand and started leading her through the home. "Harry? What's going on?" she asked with a smile, the twinkle in her eyes telling Harry she already knew.

They paused at the kitchen door leading to the backyard. Harry kissed Ginny squarely on the lips, enjoying the way her hands automatically went to his hair. Pulling away, he grinned. "Happy Birthday." He said while pushing open the door as a roar of the same words rolled through the house.

Ginny's mouth spread wide in a grin and she placed a hand to her chin. Harry clasped her tightly around the waist, leading her out into the yard where many people had started to sing Happy Birthday. Many of the same people who had come to Harry's Welcome Home Party were present at Ginny's party. As the afternoon progressed, Harry found himself being introduced to more and more new faces. It was just when the sun was starting to set when Hermione came hurrying out of the house, making a line straight for Harry.

"What is it? What happened?" Harry said when she stopped in front of him, a worried look on her face.

"This! This is the problem." She shoved a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ into his hands. Harry groaned, already knowing what this was about. He opened the paper to the front page where a huge photo of himself and Hermione in the alley sat atop an article.

_**THE BOY-WHO-LIVED! BACK AT LAST!**_

_The Legendary Harry Potter, who triumphed over You-Know-Who at the age of one and again at seventeen, is back from his five year absence. After the final battle against the Dark Lord, in which many people were killed including Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter stood alone defeated. With his haunted emerald eyes looking down at the still form of his parents' murderer, he was free at last. But that freedom was not enough to stop him from fleeing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, along with his dear friends and the ones that loved him._

_One may ask why Harry fled, as he was a hero and savior to us all. He would have been honored and awarded with the highest awards of bravery, chivalry and heroics. But, his school friends say that the Boy-Who-Lived did not ask for the fame that was brutally landed on him as a small child, and that he only wished to be a normal boy, struggling with exams and girls._

_Of course, the normalcy he so wished for was not granted, and he continued to fight the evil plaguing our lives at no thought for his own life._

_Also, we all may wonder where Harry Potter had been hiding for five years. Some say he traveled to Bulgaria to join the circus. Others say he disguised himself as a Ministry worker, living under a noses all along. One may wonder where he has been, but will we really know?_

_Under a strange twist of fate late last week, Harry Potter was spotted walking through Diagon Alley with his eleven years best friend, Hermione Granger. Both now older and wiser, they looked the perfect couple strolling through the crowds with their hands interlocked. Many may remember an article I wrote many years ago, revealing the two's relationship for the first time. It seems that love withstands all as is shown in this wonderful pair._

_This reporter was at the head of the crowd when Potter and Granger entered Qulin's Quills Stationery Store, where the couple proceeded to buy equipment for their new teaching occupations at Hogwarts, their former school. When I politely asked for an interview, the two tried to escape from the store by a back alley. The other reports and I just arrived in time to see the Boy-Who-Lived disappear with his only love wrapped up in his arms._

_**Reported by Rita Skeeter **_

_For a full story turn to page three._

_The Life of Harry Potter page five_

_The Final Battle page nine_

Those that had read the article over Harry's shoulder remained speechless, as Harry silently fumed. He heard Ginny's laughter ring across the lawn and he looked up to see Fred and George talking to her with large grins. He stuffed the under the table and forced a smile onto his face. He wasn't going to let Rita Skeeter ruin Ginny's happiness, or the love he felt for her. He turned to Hermione to see her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this again, Hermione." Harry said putting an arm around her shoulders. She looked startled but shrugged, a true smile gracing her face.

"You get used to it being friends with the _Legendary Harry Potter_!" she said with a grin, laughing as Harry pulled a disgusted face.

"Even five years out of Hogwarts I can't shake the titles. It sucks!" Harry said as many people overheard and laughed. The article lay forgotten beneath the table, as Harry relaxed in the good old times.

As the moon became a large glowing orb in the night sky, it was time for the gifts to be opened. Ginny was given not even half as many books that Harry had received, but she still got quite a lot, especially muggle ones. Hermione had bought her an extremely nice, slinky black dress that contrasted brightly with her red hair. Harry fantasized about seeing Ginny in it, causing a goofy grin to cross his face. Ron seemed to understand what he was smiling about and hit him across the head with a mock glare.

Soon, it came for Harry's gift, and the audience remained silent as Harry removed a long black velvet box from his pocket. Ginny's eyes widened as he opened it in front of her.

"Merlin, Harry!" she breathed, reaching out a shaking hand to pick it up. The many jewels glittered in the magical light surrounding the large yard, shining up upon Ginny's freckly face. Her eyes were shining with tears of happiness as Harry took the necklace from her and clipped it around her neck, letting his hands rest on either side of her neck.

"Do you like it?" he asked nervously, his smile breaking slightly. Ginny swatted him angrily against his chest, before sniffing back her tears.

"It's absolutely fantastic. Thank you so much." she said, drawing his head down to capture his lips in a mesmerizing kiss. All Weasley boys present pretended to gag, turning their heads away as if in disgust. Hermione and all other females wore dreamy looks, staring at the couple, although Luna's face remained the same.

"So you like it?" Harry asked again, wanting to hear the exact words. Ginny grinned sweetly, leaning up to his ear.

"Yes, you git. I love it."

Harry couldn't help the elation he felt from hearing those simple words. And for the rest of the night, he was caught in a dream-like trance, believing he had truly died and gone to heaven. He had never been so happy, even before Voldemort made his presence known in his first year. Harry had never felt as free as he did that night, and if it hadn't been for Ginny's hand holding him down, he thought he would float away into the inky heavens of the night sky.

**...------------...------------...**

– **Disclaimer –**

I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Hey. **

**Sorry it took ages to come out, but as I said in Battle of Hogwarts, creativity is hard to come by these days. I know the end there was mushy and corny, but oh well. This is probably going to be the happiest chapter for a long while. **

**Harry and Hermione will return to Hogwarts the next chapter and it will have some of Harry's memories and thoughts about seeing the old school again. **

**Oh, and about the last chapter. I figured that you can't Apparate in or out of the stores in Diagon Alley for fear of attacks and break-ins. So Harry and Hermione had to leave the store before they could escape the reporters.**

**Okay, please review and all that and thanks to everyone who has so far!**

**Later Days...**

**DW**

**PS. This chapter is the longest yet I this story! YAY. And I wrote most of it today...whoa, hard work especially since I'm like melting because it's so hot here. I swear, there are puddles of fleshy yukkiness splashed over the keyboard. **

**Merlin's Honor! **


	24. Reliving the Past

**Chapter 24 – **

**Reliving the Lost Years**

Harry tripped clumsily from the fireplace, only just managing to right his footing before skidding to a sharp halt. Ash and dust clung to his clothes and hair, drifting around him like black snow. He brushed himself of as Hermione stepped confidently from the emerald flames, flicking a tiny speck of soot from her arm. She caught Harry looking at her strangely and said, "What?"

"Nothing." He answered a little miffed that he would never get the hang of Flooing. He looked around at the familiar setting of the Three Broomsticks, the sight sending warm shivers down his spine. He could see the small table at the back where he, Hermione and Ron used to sit on their Hogsmeade visits; the memory brought a smile to his lips.

"Are you coming?" Hermione asked him from the doorway, holding it open slightly so a light wind blew the bell. He scanned the room again as he walked towards her. Not many people were in there that day, only around four, with the barman watching them curiously as they walked out onto the street. From the doorway of the old bar, he could see all the familiar shops; Zonko's Joke Shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, shut for the day, and much more. He found himself remembering all the times he had walked this small street; in his third year taunting Malfoy, fourth year beneath the Invisibility Cloak, fifth with the Quibbler article and meeting the DA, sixth year...

Sixth year and the attack.

It had been a surprise attack, happening fast and stealthily just as night was breaking. Many of the villagers had been just returning home, enjoying the warm spring air, taking their time. The Death Eaters had been merciless and killed all that stood in their way. When the alarm had sounded and Hogwarts been alerted to the siege, Harry was swift to get his Defense Group.

They had trained hard all year, working on advanced spells for just an occasion like that one. They had been first on the scene, the headmaster and professors not even knowing of their exit of the school. But if it hadn't been for the students, Hogsmeade would have been completely lost; raised to the ground.

Many innocent witches and wizards had been lost in the battle. They had been unprepared for such a large attack and so close to the school, that many died while trying to return to their homes. Only a quarter of the villagers fought back, dueling side by side with the Hogwarts students and professors. The battle had raged for almost an hour before back-up arrived from the Ministry. But it had been too late for most, as the Aurors discovered when they appeared on the streets.

Bodies. Bodies were everywhere. Bodies of the Death Eaters, masked and motionless. Bodies of the villagers, eyes cold and staring, faces framing fear. Bodies of the students, still in their school robes, red, yellow and blue. It didn't matter what house they had been in, they died united after fighting together.

Harry could remember standing in the middle of the street, the remaining Death Eaters having Disapparated away at their master's command. He could remember seeing the streets littered with the unmoving bodies, it didn't matter who they were; they were dead. He could still see the frozen faces of his friends, staring at the battleground strewn with the lifeless forms.

And he had walked between each dark shape, kneeling to recognize their faces. Only three students had died; one from each Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. It had been a torturous job walking through the bodies, not knowing who he would find staring coldly back up at him. He had struggled not to weep, as so many others had done. They had cried for their families, lying dead on the street; cried for their homes, destroyed in the battle. They had just cried.

Now, as he walked down the street, he caught himself recognizing the places were the bodies had lain. His smile vanished. This had been another reason for his leaving. The place had so many memories. Too many. They overwhelmed him now, after over five years. Seeing Hogsmeade stirred feelings inside him, sadness, guilt and _longing_ for the old days. The town was recovering, slowly and surely. But the scar from the Hogsmeade Battle would never fade. It would remain there as a reminder for what was lost, and _who_ was lost in the Second War.

He passed Dervish and Banges as he wandered with Hermione along the middle of the street. She kept looking up at him, a concerned look in her eyes. As they approached the winding road leading to the great castle, Harry found his hand encased in Hermione's. He squeezed it in appreciation.

His heart was beating an ugly tattoo on the inside of his throat, and he swallowed the impulse to flee. He had come too far to run again, and he wouldn't leave after seeing all this again, after so many years. As they walked along the dirty path, Harry remembered the many times he had traveled in one of the Thestral-drawn carriages, startled and scared the first time he had been able to see the scaly, winged creatures. After the Second War, many were able to see the Thestrals. And each time they did, they remembered why they were able to see them.

They finally climbed over a slight hill, and Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. He had forgotten how majestic the place was. Nestled deep within the valleys, and rising high to the sky above. He remembered.

The great castle sat beside a massive forest, dark and full of mystery. The trees could be heard whispering on the wind, their branches swaying as if in an ancient dance. The great lake rested calmly beside them both, its waters dark and deep, with ripples coursing across the surface in the gentle wind. The lawns rolled about in emerald hills and smooth slopes, all covered in a soft green grass. The grounds of Hogwarts had been severely damaged when the Dark army struck. Much had been burned in the fire that had ravaged the forest. The rest had been stained by crimson blood.

It was good to see that it had recovered, though the Whomping Willow, once tall and fierce, sat drooped and dwindled. It had been savagely attacked by the flames, its flailing limbs charred beyond recognition and its bark stripped as if it had been paper. It now sat with a haunted stoop, only half its original size and containing much less life.

The tall, bronze gates suddenly loomed in front of them, a pair of winged boars guarding atop their towers of stone. They opened wide at their approach, a loud screech sounding causing the hairs on Harry's arms to stand on end. He could feel Hermione's hand in his own and he took a deep breath, before steeping forward.

He saw it.

Hogwarts in all its ancient glory. It climbed high above the forest and hills, the many turrets and towers stretching like stony fingers for the sun. The many stones of the walls were now speckled with age and weather, but they still stood strong and indestructible. It was so large, spreading across the grounds, casting a shadow dark and looming. Even after spending seven years inside its rising walls, Harry was mesmerized.

The many enchantments could be felt tingling his skin, a feeling he had never felt before. It rippled through his body like the wrinkles on the waters of the lake, cascading into his very being, dribbling into his soul. He felt more revitalized than he had in over seven years, since the beginning of his sixth year. He felt alive.

He and Hermione walked down the path together, both their eyes locked on the familiar castle before them. But as they approached, Harry felt emotion tug at his heart. What would Hogwarts be like without its true headmaster? Albus Dumbledore.

It didn't seem real that the wise old man that once brought magic to the school, was alive no more. The castle seemed darker as these thoughts wove through his mind, and his steps slowed. He let his eyes wander across the grounds, feeling his heart beat painfully against his ribcage.

With places, memories came.

At the edge of the path, beside a bare patch of earth, once housing a thriving rose bush.

_Harry looked over his shoulder, and watched as a green light hit an unsuspecting second year. The girls face froze in fearful youth, before she crumbled into the garden, the thorns cutting into her flesh..._

At the side of the great lake.

_A scream cut through the air as a vampire descended upon a seventh year, the boy's wand dropping uselessly to the rocky shore. The blood-sucking fiend, finished with its prey, flung the lifeless body into the dark depths. The water turned ruby..._

And in the middle of the grounds, an equal distance between the forest and the lake.

_It seemed as if time had stopped when Albus Dumbledore took the curse intended for Harry. He watched with a horror-filled gaze as the old man's back slowly bent, his wand dropping to the blood-stained grass, and the twinkle that had burned for over a century, was extinguished for the last time..._

An overwhelming sense of dread enveloped him, and his footsteps faltered and finally stopped. Hermione looked up at him with confusion, before sudden comprehension dawned on her attractive face. Her hands clasped at his own, squeezing, trying to get a response. But Harry was in another world, another _time..._

His eyes were locked on the bare patch of grass, not seeing the swaying blades, but the lifeless form of Albus Dumbledore. The sky rocked above his head, and the ground sunk and rose beneath his feet as if it was a green ocean, and the waves crashed continuously upon his broken body. He tried to rise out of the impending darkness, tried to grasp Hermione's hands and see her concerned face. But the images slipped from his fingers as if they were sand.

_He found himself before Voldemort, the monster's red eyes glowing in triumph as he looked upon the lifeless body of the Hogwarts Headmaster..._

Hermione stood in front of him, her lips moving in silent speech...

_Voldemort lifted his wand, a smile growing on his lipless mouth..._

He felt pressure on his hands, but couldn't look down to see them...

_Harry looked down to see his headmasters eyes staring blankly up at him, the smile never truly dying from his face..._

_**Dumbledore was standing in front of him in the bathroom, holding out his hand with a sherbet lemon sitting softly in his palm. Harry reached out and took it...**_

"Harry? Harry? Can you hear me?" came Hermione's distressed voice, her face mere inches from his own. Harry shook his head, ridding it of the bad memories.

"Hermione?" he said in slight confusion.

"Oh, thank god, I thought I'd lost you again." she said, smiling in relief.

"Sorry...you almost did." Harry answered, looking back down at the ground below his feet. Hermione followed his gaze and sighed, stepping forward to wrap him in a tight, reassuring hug.

"It does not do to dwell in dreams in forget to live." She murmured in his ear. Harry nodded, the words sounding some-what familiar.

"It's just too hard to forget, Hermione. You should be thankful you weren't here when it happened... it was terrible, like Voldemort had won. I almost gave up hope." He murmured, his green eyes glazed. Hermione had never heard of him speak of his final battle with Voldemort, or Albus Dumbledore's death. He had always skimmed over the details, as if he was explaining it from another perspective. But this...

"Why didn't you?" she whispered, clutching at his hands as if he would run away any second. He turned his haunted gaze to her eyes and smile faintly; a smile of hope.

"My friends." He said almost as quietly as she had spoken. Hermione felt her heart warm at his words. "I knew that you were in the castle, awaiting news that the war was over. I knew that if I died, so would everyone else. I knew I couldn't let you die so I fought back. And it was lucky I did..." he said with a smile while Hermione nodded, tears sparkling in her eyes.

Harry wiped away a single tear that had been tickling at the corner of his eye, and he sniffed away the emotions. "C'mon, we better go up." He said, taking her hand and leading her away. As they reached the path, he gave one last desperate look at the lonely spot of grass, before turning and walking up the front steps.

They knocked three times, and after no call to enter, they pushed open the grand oak doors. The magnificent Entrance Hall welcomed them, complete with the high vaulted ceiling, marble columns and the sweeping staircase leading to the upper castle. Both Hermione and Harry paused to admire the room and the thoughts that came with it.

They walked out of the room through another pair of tall, double doors, to meet the familiar sight of the Great Hall. The four long tables still sat silently in the middle of the room, each with its own title: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Harry walked ahead of Hermione, down the side of the Gryffindor Table, trailing his fingers over the chipped and aged wood. At a certain spot in the table, Harry swung his legs over the bench and sat down. Hermione joined him at his side, both remaining silent.

This was where they had sat while taking meals at school. The three of them, Harry, Hermione and Ron. They had been the unbreakable trio, who would have known how they had turned out. After a while, they grew restless, their minds yearning for more familiar sights to feed them. Hermione seemed less exited than Harry, who couldn't wait to see the Gryffindor Common Room, the Quidditch Pitch, the Room of Requirements, the kitchen and even...the headmaster's office.

But just as they left the Great Hall, an old yet familiar voice called out to them. "Oh, my lucky stars! Mr. Potter, Ms Granger!" Harry whipped around, his face breaking into a broad grin.

"Professor McGonagall!" he called, opening his arms for a tight, motherly embrace with the older woman. When she pulled away, tears were sparkling in her intelligent eyes.

"You do not know how glad I am to see you again, Harry." She said, hugging him tightly again before turning to Hermione. They shared a long hug, both weeping in joy.

"Likewise, Professor." He said with a large grin, happiness sweeping through his body at the face of his old teacher. She turned to him sharply, the old stern look reappearing in her eyes.

"I am no longer your teacher, Harry. I am now your colleague; call me Minerva as I told you at your birthday." She said with a smile, walking forward to clutch both of their hands.

"Thank you, Minerva." He said, the name feeling foreign on his tongue. The old woman beamed.

"I was afraid you couldn't make it," she said, looking between the two with shining eyes.

"We had a few –ahh – stops to make, Minerva." Hermione said with a sly glance to Harry who had looked away down a long hallway.

"Oh, I see." The witch said with a faint frown, gazing at the dark haired man with a concerned gaze. Harry Potter had always had a soft spot in her heart, ever since she had seen him off at the Dursley's all those years ago. He reminded her of her own son, who had died in the first war. When she had first heard of the prophecy from Albus – god bless his soul – she had cried for hours at the thought of losing another of her kin. After the defeat of Voldemort, she had been so proud of _her boy_ but also pained to see him leave so abruptly.

But now, after five years without seeing him, he was finally returned. But he was no longer the young boy she had remembered. He was now a tall, strong, handsome man; the only sign of his nightmarish past being the lightning bolt scar on his forehead and the haunted look in his emerald eyes that would never fade. He had seen too much for a boy – no _man_ – his age, and it was remarkable he had turned out so well.

"Shall we proceed to your living quarters, then?" she said, her voice cracking. "Maybe then we can talk some more?" Harry and Hermione nodded happily, Harry still a little distracted as they walked side-by-side with their old professor. The teacher's quarters were one of the places Harry had never ventured, in all his years at Hogwarts. Even after all his adventures, he never knew where they were.

As they entered the second floor, the headmistress led them along a corridor full of old portraits that sat quietly in their frames, viewing the threesome as they wandered by. A couple called out at Harry.

"You there! I've seen you here before!"

"You're Harry Potter!"

"A well fought battle, young sir."

Soon, they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor, with the Transfiguration one floor above. They entered the office, Harry looking around at the drab settings.

"Who has had the Defense position the last few years?" he asked, remembering that his last Defense Teacher had died in the battle.

"Different people every year. Even after you finished school, it seemed that this 'curse' has continued working, determined to rid every Defense Professor after only a year of teaching. Let's hope the curse is broken with you, shall we?" Minerva said, strolling purposefully over to a portrait reaching to the floor, depicting a battle scene between a hippogriff and a dragon. The details were incredible, and Harry briefly wondered if the portrait had always been there.

As if hearing his thoughts, Minerva answered. "The portal to the Teacher's quarters changes every year in case a student finds a way in, even though they are password protected." She said, stretching out a hand to the hippogriff. When her finger touched it, it turned towards them with a fiery gaze.

"Password?" it said in a deep voice.

"Harry Potter." The headmistress said, turning to the two gaping ex-students with a smile as the portrait swung open. "You can change it when you get settled in. Just stroke the dragon's back twice." Harry nodded, and followed her in nervously, Hermione close behind.

The teacher's quarters were nothing like he expected. The room was long and rectangular, decorated in all four of the house colors. A king-sized bed sat along one of the shorter walls, the comforter a bright white with four pillows; one in red and gold, another in silver and green, the next in blue and bronze, and the last yellow and black. The floor was carpeted in a thick, dark brown, which was incredibly soft. A fireplace was positioned in the middle of a long wall, the grate empty apart from a few new wooden logs.

A corner desk sat in the closest corner, each side stretching three meters along the wall. A bookcase covered half of another wall, the shelves stacked with Defense Books, old and new.

"Through that door is the bathroom," Minerva said, pointing to a door beside the bookcase, "And that is your walk in closet." She motioned to another door on the right of the bed. She turned to Harry who was staring nonplussed at the room. "What do you think?"

Harry looked around in awe, not believing what he saw. "It's great. I never knew teachers lived in such luxury!" he said with a shake of his head. The headmistress chuckled and walked over to the fireplace and removed something from the mantle.

"This is the Floo Powder. You can travel to any one of the other offices, as long as you have permission. For my office, you will need me to invite you in. I'm sure you haven't forgotten how to work it?" she said with a smile, her face wrinkling with a smile. Harry grinned and shook his head, as Hermione joined the old woman at the fireplace. An emerald fire jumped into the grate soon after and the three of them Flooed up to the next floor, into the Transfiguration Teacher's office.

McGonagall walked over to a bookcase, reaching up to remove a book on the first shelf, two spaces from the end. On the cover of the book sat a wizard's face. It blinked up at the headmistress. "Password?" is barked in a gruff voice.

"Hermione Granger." She said. The face nodded, and once the book was returned to its respected place, the whole bookcase swung forward, revealing a portal hole. The three of them entered to find Hermione's quarters much the same as Harry's, except the other way around. Hermione immediately went to the bookcase, her eyes alight in excitement.

"If you are in here when someone knocks on your office door, you will hear the knocking quite clearly. Or if someone has Floo Called you in your office, it will be directed to your fireplace in here. Any questions?" she said, looking at Harry.

"Umm ... do we get a class schedule and a list of the things we have to teach?" he asked.

"Yes, I will arrange for your class schedule to come in the next few days, as I have to arrange all the classes. You will get a list of suggestions that you may teach, but you do not necessarily have to go by the list. If you have a subject you wish to teach and it s not on the list, just run it by me so I know if it is appropriate or not." Minerva said with a smile and nod, as Hermione gasped when she found a book she hadn't read yet. "Any more questions?"

"Yeah, when's lunch?"

**...----------...---------...**

"So you have lived in London all this time?" Minerva asked him as they sat at the teacher's table in the Great hall. The house-elves had made them each a special meal, Harry's being fish and chips with tomato sauce.

Harry answered after swallowing a mouthful of food. "Yes, all five years. It was OK, and I made a few friends." He thought of Dave and his chest constricted painfully.

"And you have been in France?" McGonagall continued, looking to Hermione who was watching Harry carefully.

"Yes, in Lyon. It's quite a lovely place, especially in spring. Have you been?" Hermione said, finally looking from Harry.

"No, but I went to Beauxbatons many years ago, the palace is quite nice."

"I know, but not as good as Hogwarts." Hermione said with a smile, looking around the hall with adoration. Harry nodded quickly, smiling as thoughts of the great school swam through his mind.

"Hogwarts is home, not matter what happens." Of course he was referring to the Battle and Dumbledore's death, and both women knew it. They sat in their own thoughts for a while, their food sitting untouched. A sniff from Minerva drew Harry's attention, and he found her wiping away a few tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean –" he tried but she shushed him with a wave of her hand.

"Nonsense. I'm OK; it's just having you back after so long is reminding of him. He would be so proud of you, Harry." McGonagall said, smiling at him with a broken heart. Harry felt his heart flop uncomfortably and a lump rose unbidden in his throat. He reached out and clasped her hand in his.

"I know." He whispered softly.

**...----------...---------...**

An Order Meeting had been called for that night. Harry and Hermione had spent all day at Hogwarts, exploring the old castle and the places they used to go. They had spent a good couple of hours in the Gryffindor Common room before McGonagall had taken them around to see all the others.

Harry had smirked when they entered the Slytherin Common Room, and he and Hermione shared a secret smile. Even though Hermione had not been with Harry and Ron when they had taken Polyjuice Potion to become Crabbe and Goyle, they had told her of the Slytherin whereabouts.

They were now sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, waiting for the arrival of the Weasley's and a few other members. Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape sat at the far end of the room, talking in half-shadows. Harry had been watching them from the corner of his eye while appearing to be listening to Tonks. They would occasionally lean forward and whisper something into the others ear, their faces dark and expressionless.

Harry had been startled the first time he had heard of Draco Malfoy's transformation in their seventh year. He had turned spy for the Order while acting as the loyal Death Eater by the Dark Lord's side. He had been relaying information to them for months before the Hogwarts battle, and he had been the main reason they had been partially prepared for the attack. They knew there was going to be one but not the exact day of the attack.

He and Snape had been their spies for many years, with their identities remaining hidden to the other Death Eaters and the new Dark Lord. Harry had always thought that Draco Malfoy was a coward, only following his father for the power and wealth. He had always acted the arrogant rich boy, hating all muggle-borns and half-bloods because of their parentage.

He still acted as if he was better than everyone else was, but he had changed greatly from their school days. He carried a haunted look in his grey eyes, and many battle scars lay scattered across his body from the many tortures given by his 'master'. Harry was impressed that he had survived this long and proved to everyone that he was _not_ like his father.

Harry respected him in a sense, even though he still hated him with a passion.

Footsteps were heard on the stairs and the many redheads of the Weasley's appeared, staying silent as they found seats around the table. Ginny sat down beside Harry, kissing him lightly on the cheek. Harry glanced over at Malfoy whose cold eyes were on him. The two stared at each other for a long moment, both they gazes blank.

"This is the first Order Meeting for a while, so we have a lot to discuss." Arthur Weasley said with a sigh. "The attacks have gotten worse. They're all over Britain now; there was another one last week in Kent, eight muggles were killed. The Dark Lord is getting stronger and more confident. He isn't afraid to show how much power he has anymore. People are getting scared. The Ministry is in disarray, especially the Auror Division and Law Enforcement Department. There have been so many raids and too many deaths in their ranks. There have been eleven in the last month, many of which had been friends of ours." Mr. Weasley bowed his head and sighed, when he looked up, he looked at Harry. "There has been no other indication that he wants Harry, apart from the random attack in London. Maybe you can give us more information, Draco?"

Malfoy slowly stood, his face coming into the light. He looked tired; bags hung beneath his eyes and his face looked pinched and drawn. It was a few minutes before he spoke. "The Dark Lord and Bellatrix have been making plans together in between the attacks. I have only been told that it involves Potter and some new information they have come across in the last few weeks. He seems very excited, hence the outbreak of attacks."

"And you know nothing else about this 'new information' he has about Harry?" Bill Weasley asked wearily. Draco shook his head slightly.

"No, but it is only a matter of time before I am allowed such information. He still suspects a spy in our ranks and is torturing us on a regular basis. He thinks it will reduce the chance of someone speaking or relaying information to someone other than who's in our ranks. I have tried to talk to Bellatrix, but she remains silent. I think she is the one who found this information, because she disappears for days at a time with Wormtail." Draco said as Harry took a quick intake of breath which didn't go unnoticed.

"He's still alive is he? Worthless waste of air..." he seethed, glaring angrily at the table.

"Yes, Wormtail is alive. He remains with us because he is too scared to leave. He is a coward, always sniveling up to Bellatrix or me. The Dark lord only keeps him around because of his 'talents' and he is a good way to vent his anger. I don't know how he was a Gryffindor." Draco said to Harry with a slight curve of his lips.

"Anything else, Draco?" Arthur asked with a sigh.

"Yes. There are plans to attack Diagon Alley in three weeks time, on the sixth. I managed to stop him attacking when all the new students would be doing their school shopping, by saying that was a time when the protection was greater and it would be harder for him to attack." Draco said with a nod before sitting back down. Mr. Weasley sighed, long and hard.

"Very well, I will tell the Aurors and Law Enforcers to patrol the streets for that week and remain prepared for an attack. Thank you, Draco; your words will help us greatly." Mr. Weasley said with a thankful nod directed at the pale-haired man who nodded in return. Arthur's eyes landed on Harry again and his eyes grew troubled. "We don't know what he wants with you, Harry. It seems strange that the only two Dark Lords we've had in less than twenty years have been intent on you. I'm not too sure what makes them drawn to you, but it's their problem, because they should know how strong you are."

"Maybe that's why they try to kill him off early," Ron said quietly. "They feel threatened by him so much they just want to get him out of the way before they do anything else." Many heads nodded in agreement, while Harry groaned in frustration.

"I didn't ask to have a huge sign hanging from my neck yelling 'DARK LORD KILLER'. I just wanted to be normal!" he said angrily, digging at a scratch in the table.

"And I didn't want to have a sign on my neck saying 'LUCIUS MALFOY'S SON', either." Draco said with a dark smile. "We don't always get what we want." Harry looked at him blankly, wondering why he suddenly felt a sense of familiarity with his old school enemy.

"Well we should." Harry grumbled, hating how so many things changed and so many refused to stay the same.

**...----------...---------...**

**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Hey.**

**So, here's this chapter, a little shorter than the last, but still long. I added a few more things about the Final Battle and other things. And I added that bit at the end, with Draco being a little civilized because I thought he would change after all those years. There will be a little more on it next chapter.**

**The next chapter will be Harry's first class, hehe, which should be fun! He will meet a few people who will test him, and a few who is familiar with.**

**I hope you liked this chapter, I wrote it yesterday and today, sigh...hard work. I will start to write the next chapter of Behind the Eyes of the Hero in a minute after I get something to eat.**

**Please review and all that and thanks to those who have so far!**

**Later Days...**

**DW**


	25. A New Generation

**Chapter 25 – **

**A New Generation**

Harry had never been so nervous in his entire life. Not even before the Tri Wizard Tournament had he felt so ill and shaky. Not even before the Final Battle, or even when he asked Ginny out for the first time, it was nothing, _nothing_ compared to this. He couldn't steady his hands to pull on his cloak, or even stop them shaking to brush his teeth. It felt as though a thousand fairies were flapping their way around his stomach and up his throat. Their tiny wings tickled his windpipe, making him want to throw up.

Today was the day.

The day everything would change.

Today was the day he would take a large step away from his past life and all he knew, into something greater. He would no longer be an ex-student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He would be a teacher of the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He would be one of the steps, one of the reasons for making those children who they would grow to be. He would have a big part in their lives. He would be responsible for helping them protect themselves in the world. And he could be the reason that some of them were able to fight back.

Of course, he had taught the DA and was the main reason most of the students survived in the Final Battle. He had been their teacher, but he had also been one of them.

But now – now he would no longer be a student leader. He would be a teacher, a member of staff, an adult... Most of the students of the school would look up at him for guidance. What if he was no good at it? What he couldn't teach so many different people, things that the subject asked of him. What if he messed up?

Someone knocked at the door. He turned to see Hermione step through the portrait hole, a large grin plastered across her face. She was dressed in tight blue jeans and a light purple turtleneck sweater. A black cloak was draped across an arm as she walked forward, her face shining in excitement.

"Good afternoon! Did you have a good nap?" she asked taking a seat on the end of his bed, bouncing on it a bit before relaxing down.

"No." Harry answered irritably, smoothing down the front of his black, button-up shirt. Hermione's brow furrowed.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I was too nervous all day to get any rest." Harry said with a groan as a piece of hair wouldn't stay down on the top of his head. "Bloody hair! I look like Alfalpha!" Harry shouted as Hermione giggled.

"Isn't that the kid from _The Little Rascals_?" she said laughing. Harry glared at her before pulling on a long, black, thick cloak, that fell to the floor about his feet. Hermione sighed.

"Don't worry about today, Harry. I was nervous as well when I had my first day of teaching. But I've been doing it for almost four years, so I've gotten used to the feeling. You'll get over it, as soon as you realize there's nothing to be afraid of." Hermione said, patting the space beside her on the bed. Harry sat down beside her, clamping his hand around hers. She leant into him with a smile.

"I don't think I can do it." He said, shaking his head.

"Of course you can. You've faced a fifty foot Basilisk, a werewolf, a troll, a giant, hundreds of giant spiders, Voldemort countless times – what's all that to a class of twenty eleven year olds?" she said with a laugh as Harry's face lit up.

"I did all that?" he said in awe. She laughed.

"Of course you did. Most of it before you turned fifteen. You see, Harry? You can do anything if you put your mind to it!" Hermione said, squeezing his hand encouragingly.

"I hope so." Harry sighed. "But what if they don't like me?"

"Harry! Relax...they'll love you. Now, have you got all your lesson plans done?" Hermione said, back to her old, bossy self. Harry smiled.

"Yes, I did them last week." He said his stomach rumbling with both hunger and anticipation.

"Good, anyway, we don't have classes until tomorrow. The only thing you've got to do tonight is have dinner, make petty conversation with some of the other professors and wait through the sorting."

"And ignore all the stares I'll be getting from the hundreds of kids that will be arriving in less than an hour." Harry added bitterly, wringing his hands and standing up.

"Harry, it will be OK! I'll be there beside you the whole way. You weren't a Gryffindor for nothing." Hermione said with a warm smile.

"Well, I was almost Slytherin, that's probably why I want to run right now." Harry mumbled angrily as Hermione stared at him.

"What did you just say?" she said with a confused expression. Harry turned and gave her a crooked grin.

"I've never told anyone this, not even Ron. I thought you would ditch me or something. I had to convince the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor and not Slytherin; it seemed to think I would do great in there. But, after a while, I asked it to put me in Gryffindor, so that's where I went." Harry said with a thin smile. Hermione just stared at him.

"You were going to be a Slytherin?" she said.

"Yeah, weird huh?" He said. "You don't care, do you?" he added with a frown.

"Of course not, it would've been just strange having the Boy-Who-Lived in Slytherin. It would've been ironic." Hermione said with a chuckle.

"I told Dumbledore about it and he said it had to do with some of Voldemort's powers being transferred to me. So the Sorting Hat seen some of Tom Riddle in me, that's why it had trouble putting me in a house. But I think I already had some of those Slytherin traits in me. Who knows?" he said, turning back to the mirror. They sat in a thoughtful silence for a few minutes, with Harry trying to flatten his hair and Hermione lost in thoughts about a Slytherin Harry.

"I think we should go down now. Minerva is expecting us." Hermione said, getting up from the bed with a yawn. Harry sighed, gave up trying to not look like a movie-character and walked with her to the door.

**-----...-----...-----**

Harry sat restlessly with his knee bumping up and down beneath the table. Hermione was holding his hand to his left, and Minerva McGonagall sat at his right. On the other side of her was Severus Snape, the new Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts – he kept throwing Harry contemptuous glares – beside him was small professor Flitwick, older than ever.

Hagrid had left fifteen minutes beforehand to meet the students at the station, and direct the first- years across the lake. Even thought the half-giant now had a family, he was still teaching Care of Magical Creatures down in the grounds, his old hut transformed into an animal enclosure.

It was only a matter of time before the Thestral-drawn carriages would pull up on the drive, letting off hundreds of students, who would pack into the Great hall; staring, pointing – like always.

"Relax," Hermione crooned into his ear, giving his hand a tight squeeze.

"Easy for you to say, you've done it a million times!" Harry hissed back. His mind was in full-force, going through all escape routes and back-out plans. He mentally berated himself. _You can do this! It's only a few hundred kids, what's the worse that could happen?_

"Oh, crap." He murmured, shaking his head. Suddenly, the Great Doors were flung open. A tidal wave of chatter met their ears, as the old students pushed each other out of the way to get in first. Harry sat at the back of his seat, trying to remain calm. Quickly, he flattened his fringe to hide his scar while both Hermione and McGonagall shook their heads in amusement – Snape had disappeared.

The students kept coming in, all dressed in their school robes and hats. They met friends from other houses, exchanging gossip from the holidays, before shuffling off to their own tables. It took a good ten minutes before everyone was seated, which gave Harry a chance to note the changes. The Gryffindor table was packed with eager, shining faces, all talking to each other and throwing sly glances to the Slytherin Table. None of the red-and-gold robed students was familiar, and Harry was momentarily amazed that no red-heads were seated at the table. When he had been at Hogwarts, at least two Weasley's had almost been around.

But now, that great tradition was gone.

Many pairs of eyes had found Harry and were staring quite relentlessly in confusion and curiosity. Harry grinned. No one recognized him. Suddenly, the Great Doors opened again, and Severus Snape strode purposely in. behind him trailed a long line of small, nervous first- years. Harry looked on with awe at how little they were.

"Were we that small when we started?" he whispered into Hermione's ear. She only smiled and nodded, her eyes glittering brightly. Snape led the students to the front of the hall, where he sat down a three-legged stool with a battered hat on top. Harry leant forward in his chair, watching the brim at the bottom open wide into a black, material mouth. The hall sat in silence as it sang.

_**Many years ago**_

_**I sat here in song**_

_**Warning all you about a battle**_

_**That had raged good and long**_

_**That battle was won**_

_**By a boy once student here**_

_**He looked through the lies**_

_**To save our home and school so dear**_

_**Like that war over**_

_**A new one has risen in its stride**_

_**And the world is now again broken**_

_**And we are forced to once more hide**_

_**Here I am singing**_

_**A song meant to split**_

_**You into houses where**_

_**You are forever to sit**_

_**Should it be Slytherin?**_

_**Where the Dark Lord was born**_

_**Or that of brave Gryffindor**_

_**And the hero leader's new dawn?**_

_**Could it be Hufflepuff?**_

_**With her heart so soft and true?**_

_**Or dear, smart Ravenclaw?**_

_**Where they crave the knowledge new?**_

_**For many years I am forced**_

_**To tear you all apart**_

_**Put you into the houses four **_

**_To learn their ancient art_**

_**But once again I must sing**_

**_A warning to each and everyone_**

_**The Dark is not yet over**_

**_And a cloud has blocked the sun_**

_**In time for another great war **_

_**The Prophesized One has returned**_

_**With him he has brought secrets that**_

_**He has fought for and earned**_

_**So here I am singing**_

_**In my jolly old voice**_

_**Not a song for sorting but**_

**_A warning about choice_**

Harry groaned. "More warnings?"

The silence of the hall was deafening. The Headmistress was sitting rigidly at the end of her seat, her wizened old eyes wide with fear. Even Snape, who was usually emotionless and blank, was struggling not to show his confusion and dread. The first- years were staring wide-eyed at the now motionless hat, their nerves multiplied by the dire song. Finally, when Harry was starting to feel the eyes of so many on him, Snape shook himself out of his stupor.

"Aston, Brian." The first name on the long list of new students was a boy with sandy hair and a pointed face. He stumbled forward, his young face pale and drawn. Harry watched with strange excitement as the boy placed the hat on his head; it fell to his chin. It took a moment before his fate was decided.

"RAVENCLAW!" One of the tables erupted into cheers and the boy, looking a little better, ran of to join them. So the sorting slowly commenced, with a new generation of students joining each house with happy faces, and the long line of first- years slowly vanished. Finally, when Kimberly Zebra was placed in Hufflepuff, Snape removed the stool and hat, returning not long after. As soon as he sat back down beside McGonagall, the Headmistress stood shakily. Harry was just as excited as the students were.

"Welcome, old and new to another year at Hogwarts. Over the last year, more and more news is rising about a new Dark Lord. There have been attacks across Britain that has affected most of you, directly or indirectly. But I must ask you to stay strong and brave, because the war will be over sooner than you think." Harry could've sworn that McGonagall's eyes flicked down to him – but he couldn't be sure. "The Sorting Hat speaks the truth about this War – it will be your choice as to which side you fight on or if you fight at all. The days are getting darker, and soon they will be as dark as they were five years ago when Lord Voldemort roamed the lands."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and a few people whispered behind their hands. Harry frowned. Surely everyone had gotten over Voldemort and the silly fear of his name? Obviously not. Hermione seemed to share his views as her forehead was creased in worry.

"Fear not, because you are safe within Hogwarts grounds, more so this year than any other." There! She had looked directly at Harry. He knew it. "Now that the grim subject is out of the way, I would like to announce that Professors' Dermbridge and Nickelson have retired, leaving the position of Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts open. I would like to welcome our new transfiguration teacher, Hermione Granger." There was a loud round of applause, as people remembered her name. She was once one of Harry Potter's best friends. Hermione stood and bowed, smiling and waving, before sitting back down. She gave Harry an encouraging smile.

"And, I would like to announce the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has been given to none other than –" Minerva smiled, drawing out the tense silence – "Harry Potter."

Harry stood nervously as the hall was lapsed into silence. Every single eye was on him, including those of the teachers. He had never felt so isolated and alone, standing in front of hundreds of people, all staring at him. Just when he was about to sit down, clapping started. Soft at first before it grew louder. It thundered around the room, ear-cracking applause that rang in everyone's eardrums. Harry paused halfway to his seat and his jaw dropped.

"Wave, you prat!" Hermione whispered into his ear. Harry nervously straightened out and waved once – twice – three times. People began cheering, whistling, and hitting the tabletops. Harry exchanged glances with Hermione and McGonagall before sitting down. It took three shouts from Hagrid and two lots of sparks from the Headmistress's wand to quiet them down. But still, people let off odd calls of praise, some louder than others.

"You go, Potter!"

"You're my hero!"

"You suck!" That came from a Slytherin, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Some things never changed. The rest of the night wove on, with the feast just as delicious as Harry remembered, and the enchanted ceiling bringing back many memories he had long since forgotten. Soon, though, the evening was drawn to a close, with McGonagall telling the fifth- year prefects to take the first- years to the dormitories and the Head Boy and Girl to make sure none were left behind.

Many students wandered up to Harry, who was feeling incredibly swamped and outnumbered. Many girls were presenting him with items of clothing or parchment to sign, and one seventh year even offered him her chest with a sweet smile. Harry just wanted to vanish. Finally, after much persuasion from Harry and Hermione, they reluctantly went through the Great Doors. Hermione's face was glowing in embarrassment, after a mob of young boys had asked her for autographs, hugs, kisses, and some things Harry wanted to hit them for.

So, it was with a heavy mind and body that the two of them clambered up to Harry's dormitory. Hermione wished him a good night before Flooing away from the fireplace, telling him to be up at six the next morning to prepare classes. Harry groaned as he collapsed onto his bed, wishing he would never, _ever_ have to go through that experience again.

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**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Hey, yes, I know it's late, and short. But stuff happened as I said in BOH – and you can't refuse stuff.**

**The first class was meant to be in this chapter, but I couldn't be bothered writing it. It will be in the next chapter though, o Friday (hopefully). The next chapter for Behind the Eyes of the Hero won't be out today, maybe tomorrow. I cant find the words to finish the chapter, and I have to go back to school tomorrow and work tomorrow night. I wont finish until eight and I will try to finish the chapter tomorrow night and post it. If not it WILL be out Tuesday. **

**Sorry. Please review and thanks to those that have so far.**

**And do you think I can get to 250 with this chapter? Please? Please, please! If I could get 200 with 20 chapters why can't I get 250 with 25? C'mon, I know you can do it!**

**Bye**

**DW**


	26. First Classes and Something for the Goss

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**Chapter 26-**

**First Classes and Something for the Goss**

**...-----...-----...**

**.-.**

**.-.**

**.-.**

**.-.**

The classroom was silent and cast in a pale yellow light. Morning was upon the old, prestigious school, and most of its occupants were still lost in the land of slumber. One person was awake with the blooming flowers, dressed in a deep blue cloak, black shirt and simple, denim jeans. He sat in content silence, his face smooth and free of wrinkles and lines.

He was sitting on a desk in the quiet classroom, his face turned to an open window, a small smile gracing his face. As he looked out into the azure sky of another day, his emerald eyes glazed over, as if seeing something long since passed.

It had been many years since he had entered one of the many classrooms inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had been a student back then; young, but bound by the lies and horrors of war and Voldemort. But when he had entered this classroom for the first time in over five years, he entered it as a free man.

Voldemort was dead, the Second War over. Even though a new war was starting up, and another Dark Lord taking the place of Tom Riddle, Harry was not burdened by the constant burning of his scar and the never-ending fear of Voldemort attacking the ones he loved, destroying friendships and families.

He was no longer connected to a deranged maniac, intent on killing him and everyone he cared for. Harry had finally fulfilled the prophecy, and defeated Lord Voldemort for the last time. And even though there was another monster out in the world, terrorizing families and killing innocent muggles and magical folk alike, Harry could finally say that he was free.

His scar was just that: a scar. There was no secret threads binding him to another person, there was no visions through another's eyes. It was a reminder of all that he lost, and all that he could gain.

But, the threat that it could all be taken away from him was growing heavier upon his shoulders. This new Dark Lord was a pain in his side and a shadow in his thoughts. Dave Ream was already gone, lost as another casualty in a war between two worlds; two sides; the Light and the Dark.

He didn't deserve to go the way he did, and his family shouldn't have had to suffer through the pain of losing someone they loved. They didn't even know the real reason he had died, the real cause behind his death. If they had known the true reason why they had lost their son and brother, they wouldn't believe it and think Harry crazy.

The desk grew hard beneath him, causing his skin to tingle with pressure and pent-up circulation. He slid from the table, stretching out the cramps in his limbs and back. He had been on the desk for over two hours, sitting motionless, staring blankly through the window.

His arse hurt like hell.

"Bugger this," he groaned, rubbing his backside through the material of his pants.

"Should I leave you alone?" sounded the soft, humour-filled voice of Hermione. Harry chuckled and turned to see her leaning against the doorframe, a smirk pulling at her lips.

"No; you can join me if you like," he said with a grin as she laughed, and walked slowly in, her long cloak almost touching the floor.

"How're you holding up?" she asked with concern, walking over to the window, to look out into the rolling lawns. Harry shrugged with a loud sigh.

"I'm okay; as long as the kids don't set me on fire, I should be fine." He joked, playing with the edge of the desk. Hermione laughed and faced him, smiling, and a sparkle in her brown eyes.

"It's good to see you smiling," she said softly, walking over to place a hand on his shoulder. Harry smiled and took her hand, kissing the knuckles gently.

"It feels good to have someone to smile with," he said, "the last few weeks have been … confusing."

"I know. But I like seeing you happy; I can't remember the last time you actually had a good time, apart from yours and Ginny's birthdays. By the way," she said with a mischievous grin, "whatever did Ginny get you?" Harry laughed and felt his face burn lightly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he said with a chuckle, while Hermione's face glittered with joy and humour.

"That's the old Harry I miss seeing," she said, slinging an arm around his waist. He wrapped a hand about her neck, kissing the top of her head. She sighed and leaned into him.

"And I miss the old Know-It-All from seventh year," he said in mock sincerity as she elbowed him in the ribs.

"Don't push your luck, _Scarhead!_" she said with a fake glare, before both of them dissolved into laughter. The first classes would begin in less than an hour, and Harry was once again going through his notes for each of his classes. That day, he would have third year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors first period, followed by a free period. After Lunch, he had a seventh year class mixed with students from all four houses, and then a first year class of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. The last he was slightly nervous about.

How would the Slytherins act around him? Would their parents have told them how he was the one who had killed Voldemort? Their master. Or would they have been too young to fully understand the monster their parents supported? But who knew how their young minds could have been corrupted over the years, with their family full-heartedly supporting the Dark Lord. But, most of them would have been too small to understand why their parents always vanished.

Many of them would be parentless; their mothers and fathers either dead or rotting in Azkaban.

Or were they once again killing as Death Eaters in the ranks of another Dark Lord? Were most of the small eleven-year olds already fantasizing about joining the Dark Lord's circle, to suffer through his merciless wrath; tortured and possibly even killed for nothing but a miniscule glimpse of power.

If they were, then the world was a harsh, painful place. More so than Harry had ever thought.

Breakfast had finally finished, with Harry having left half an hour before the bell to make sure everything was set and ready for his first class. He was sitting restlessly at his desk, occasionally jumping up and pacing, before sitting back down. It was on one of these rounds when he heard the unmistakable chatter of students walking towards the door.

He froze, straightening out his clothes, smoothing over his hair, making sure he was presentable. _What's wrong with me? _He thought. _I'm acting like Lockhart!_

He shuddered, as memories of that ill-fated man came flooding into his mind. Then, the first student of his first class walked through the door. She was a tall, blonde-haired Ravenclaw by the blue symbol on her robes. She smiled at him awkwardly before taking a seat in the middle of the room. Not long after, she was joined by another girl, and another.

Soon, the room was full of quietly whispering students, all looking at him in awe. He shifted nervously, uncomfortably aware of the row of giggling girls in the front row of seats. They kept staring at him, going red and giggling when he looked at them, before whispering to each other behind their hands. It was starting to irritate him.

He stepped to the front of the room and just stared. The room went immediately silent. He was shocked tremendously. Had he become one of those professors like Snape and McGonagall that could gain immediate quiet by just walking into the room or looking around with a particular look?

He wasn't sure if he liked it. "Well, I'm sure you all know who I am," he started as a few people laughed; the girls in the front row giggled loudly, as if it was the funniest thing they had ever heard. Harry looked at them until they were quiet, but as soon as he looked away, he could see them look at each other with broad smiles. "For those who don't, I'm Harry Potter."

A hand flew up at the back of the room. Harry pointed at her and said, "If you have something to say, could you state your name then question so I can get to know you all better?"

The dark haired girl nodded. "Angelica Henderson. Are you really_ him_?" she said boldly, with raised eyebrows. Many people nodded with wide eyes, and curious faces. Harry sighed.

"Why would I have said my name was Harry Potter if I wasn't really him?" he said while raising one eyebrow. The girl went pink before composing herself a bit more.

"Because, when I was in first year, we had this caretaker who said he was the real Harry Potter. But, not even a month into the term; he turned out to be this guy from London pretending to be Harry Potter. And he was _really_ ugly, so we knew it couldn't have been _you_!" The girl grinned and nodded, while other people started talking about the incident.

Meanwhile, Harry was completely and utterly stunned. Why would someone pretend to be him? And wouldn't someone have known it wasn't him, like McGonagall or even Snape? Was he that easily copied, to be used as a sort of popularity and fame device? It was strange. And what was even stranger was the fact that he had tuned out again – and the class was all staring at him in complete silence.

He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "Right… well, I am the real Harry Potter and erm…have been for the last twenty-two years," he said with a grin as a few more people laughed. "Anymore questions?" Nearly the whole class's hands flew up. He groaned. "Any questions _not _relating to me in any way?" Almost all the hands went down.

He pointed to a boy in the back row. "Edward Smith. Are you going to teach us some of the spells you used to defeat You-Know-Who and all the Death Eaters?" he asked quickly. Harry sighed.

"I thought I said no questions relating to me?" he said warily. The boy frowned.

"It was mostly relating to class, sir." Edward said, as Harry sighed, knowing he was right.

"Well, I will be teaching you some of the spells that helped me out a lot of times when I was fighting," he said, "spells like the Disarming, stunning, shield charms, and others that can be used as both an attack and defence." He pointed to a girl who had been waving her hand frantically in the air for about three minutes.

"Helen Sanders. How long before we actually get to learn these spells?" she asked, "and will we be doing any theory work?" She reminded Harry of Hermione, and he couldn't help smiling at her. A few girls threw her scandalous looks.

"We will be starting straight away on Shield Charms, before moving onto some other things. In the second term, I will be bringing in some Dark Creatures for you to study, and learn spells to defend you from them. And the last two terms will be divided between learning offence and defence spells, and Duelling." Harry said with a grin as excited chatter broke out. "And there won't be as much Theory work, perhaps a few assignments to give you the basic understanding of some spells."

The girl looked put out but nodded, writing something down with a tall, spotted quill. "Anymore questions relating to school work?" A few hands went up and he reluctantly picked one of the girls down the front. She giggled and glanced at her friends before looking up at him with big blue eyes.

"So, you actually are **_the_** Harry Potter?"

**...-----...-----...**

"How was your first class?" Hermione asked him at Lunch, chewing idly on the end of a sandwich. Harry shook his head, and put his hands over his face. "That bad, huh?" he nodded and groaned, looking up through his fingers at all the students eating lunch at the four long tables below them. He could see a few people staring up at him. He moaned louder.

"All they wanted to know is how I killed Voldemort or if I was the real Harry Potter. Apparently, I had a copy cat a few years ago –" he started but stopped at the look on Hermione's face. He narrowed his eyes. "You knew, didn't you?" Hermione let out a giggle and nodded.

"Yes, I thought it was funny. Minerva told me yesterday, and I couldn't stop laughing all through tea," she said, shaking her head in mirth. Harry only sighed.

"I didn't think it was funny," he said, "it's weird. How would you like it if someone impersonated you while being a caretaker here? He could have at least pretended to be a Quidditch player!" Hermione laughed and swatted him on the arm as Harry chuckled. "How were your first classes then?"

Hermione smiled. "A little better than yours. Except I had the sixth year Slytherins mixed with Gryffindors; not a good mix. I spent the whole lesson trying to stop a debate between them about you." Hermione said as Harry gaped.

"_Me?_" he stuttered.

She nodded briskly. "They were arguing about why you left, how you killed Voldemort and why your back now," she said with a small smirk, "some of the things they came up with were quite clever." Harry just stared at her, speechless.

"How did you stop it?" he asked hoarsely.

"I listened in for a while, before I threatened to curse them all; that got an immediate reaction. Apparently, they've all read the articles written about you, Ron and me over the years; about how I was quite capable of turning a stone into a castle and so on. Quite interesting, really." Hermione said with a modest smile. "But then I decided to just tell them half-truths about everything, and said how much Transfiguration helped you win the war."

"And?" he said with a desperate look. She grinned.

"They all bought it and they all can't wait to start learning something that will kill a Dark Lord." Hermione laughed but Harry frowned. Everyone seemed to be making a joke about the Second War. They all seemed to be forgetting the prices paid for defeating Voldemort. Forgetting who died to save their lives, to put an end to the war. It was as if Albus Dumbledore was nothing more than a fading memory, already replaced by images of this new war, new faces and places.

It was as if he was not important.

"Its good that they're moving on," Hermione said as if reading his thoughts. "Do you really want them dwelling on the past? Hoping that things didn't happen the way they did? It's a good thing they're moving on, because it shows us not all is lost in the world. It shows us that they haven't given up."

Once again, Hermione Granger was right. He didn't know how she did it – or Ginny for that matter. The both of them always seemed to know what was going on in his head, and they always had something to do or say, that made him feel better. They were _his_ heroes.

"I know, but it's like they're forgetting him, Hermione. It's as if they don't care," he said with a painful sigh.

"They won't forget, Harry. They never will. And it's not that they don't care, it's just that they don't want to keep remembering him and the way he died. It hurts too much. Plus, most of these students don't even remember him. The Seventh years were in first year when Dumbledore was headmaster and we were in our last year. They would be the ones that remember him and the war even though they were kept out of it." Her mouth thinned slightly and Harry felt slightly nervous.

He knew she was thinking about the Final Battle, and how she, Ron and Ginny had been locked inside with the first years, by Harry when the fighting had started up. He knew it hadn't been fair, but it was only to keep them safe and alive. He didn't know what he would've done without them. Any of them.

"I'm sorry," he said just as the bell sounded and the students and teachers started moving of. Hermione gave him a smile and patted his shoulder.

"I know," she said before walking swiftly from the room, glancing back to give him a sad look. Harry sighed, before sitting up and making his way to his second class of the day; the seventh years. They were waiting outside the classroom door in relative silence, with only a few conversations sounding. But silence greeted him as he walked door the corridor, eyes ahead, ignoring the many gazes upon him.

Once he had unlocked the door, opened it wide, he stepped to the front of the room, and watched the many students file in. he was proud to see that most of them were Gryffindors, mixed with a few Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and of course, Slytherins. He was happy to note that the front row wasn't full of giggling girls. Instead, it was a mix between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor boys, quietly unpacking their bags.

Once everyone had out their parchment and quills, Harry smiled. "Hello, I'm your new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor this year, Harry Potter. You can call me Professor Potter, sir, Harry; I don't mind as long as you listen and learn." He started, fiddling with a piece of parchment in his hand. "I'll just mark the roll and then I will answer questions and outlive the course structure leading up to the exams."

About ten minutes later when the roll had been called, and Harry had placed names with all the faces, he took a seat in the end of his desk.

"So, this year is your last, and it will be you're hardest yet. I'm not going to go into a whole speech about how important your NEWTs are, because I know how annoying it gets when every single professor says it to you," he said as the class laughed in agreement, "It wasn't that long ago when I was in seventh year, and I can tell you it was my hardest ever." A hand flew into the air. It was a sandy haired Gryffindor – Bryan Andrews – if he remembered correctly.

"But in your last year, you had Voldemort trying to kill you as well as your exams. And didn't you get really good marks in the NEWTs?" he asked loudly. Harry was startled yet somewhat proud that the boy had used Voldemort's real name, not some name the press had made up, thinking it would lesson the fear.

"Yes, I did have Voldemort after me in my last year, but I still managed to get my studying done as well as training for the Final Battle. If I could juggle two things like that, and get through both of them relatively unscathed, don't you think you can?" Harry said with raised eyebrows, as a few people nodded, smiling.

"But you were super smart, weren't you?" piped up a skinny girl, wearing her dark hair in pigtails. Harry almost laughed aloud.

"I think you've got me confused with Hermione," he smirked, "she was the smart one; smartest witch of her age, if I remember correctly. It's no wonder she got a job here, she's a great teacher."

"You mean, Professor Granger, is _Hermione_?" another girl asked with an awed face. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, Hermione is the new Transfiguration teacher, and my best friend." Harry said as another hand went up.

"Where's Ron Weasley if you both are here? I thought you were never separated?" the girl said as he frowned.

"Ron's working in the Ministry, so he couldn't come here. I think that's enough questions about –"

"Where were you for the past five years?" someone said loudly.

"How come you ran away after killing You-Know-Who?" another asked.

"He ran because he's a coward!" Harry held up a hand to stop the onslaught of questions, the last statement fading away.

"Who said that?" he demanded, stepping towards the front row, scanning the room with a fierce gaze. No one moved, not even a pair of eyes glanced in the direction on the speaker. He shrugged, and started walking up and down the rows, watching each students face for any sign of guilt. For anything. He didn't take Occlumency for three whole years as well as Legiliumcy for two without picking up a few things on the way. He would find them.

He walked up the left hand side of the room, filled with mostly Slytherins. As he looked at each face in turn, his eyes fell on a boy at the back of the room. He had dark hair, falling to his eyes, with cold steel eyes. Harry stopped in front of him, reading hunger, power, and complete guilt in the boys eyes. He smiled.

"Why do you call me a coward?" he asked simply, watching as the Slytherin's eyes flashed.

"Why are you accusing me of saying that?" he said angrily, giving his position away immediately. Harry smirked.

"I don't accuse people unless I know they're guilty," he said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back slightly, looking down at the boy. Harry knew he was over-reacting to the childish call, but he was trying to make a point. The boy – Michael Crow – looked up at him coldly.

"I called you a coward because you are a coward," he spat. A few people gasped, but Harry only stared at the dark haired boy.

"Why am I a coward?"

"You ran away from the Dark Lord and his followers because you knew they were too powerful!" he said as Harry frowned.

"What do you mean I ran away from Voldemort and the Death Eaters? When I left, Voldemort was dead at my feet and most of his 'servants' were either dead, arrested or had disappeared. So, tell me, who were the cowards in that sentence?" Harry asked. The boy glared fiercely at him.

"You are! Why else would you have run away then?"

"That's a matter between me and my family," Harry said as the boy chuckled darkly.

"You don't have any family; the Dark Lord killed them all. And I'm glad!" Michael Crow said, grinning as Harry's face fell.

"Family don't have to have the same blood as you, they just need a place in your heart," he said, remembering that those had been some of the words Albus Dumbledore once spoke to him.

Michael smiled sadistically, and Harry thought it reminded him of someone. "And who else did he kill, I wonder? Would it have been the _great_ Albus Dumbledore? Everyone knows he was just this crack-pot old fool; I couldn't be happier that he's dead."

Harry felt a blind rage flare inside him. How _dare_ this Slytherin say those things? If it hadn't been for the years of self-control and keeping his emotions under check, he would have pulled out his wand and turned the kid into the snake he was. But, a voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Ginny was saying, '_Calm down, don't let him anger you. It doesn't matter what he says or what he does. It doesn't matter._'

He took a deep breath and stared down at Michael Crow, forcing as much anger and cold fury into his eyes as he could. And he took a sick pleasure in seeing the boy's gaze falter, and shine with unmistakable fear. He smiled and leaned down so he was mere inches from Crow's face.

"He was a great man. And I don't care that you're happy he's gone. You know what? I couldn't be bloody gladder that Voldemort is finally back in the hell he was spat from!" He hissed in a deadly whisper, watching as Michael's face paled quickly. "And if you ever, _ever_, speak like that about one of my friends again, you will _dearly _regret it!" And to make his point clear, he flicked out his wand and touched it to the Slytherin's shoulder. He smiled grimly, before standing up and shoving his wand away.

None of the other students had heard the words he had spoken into the boy's ears, but he was sure the word would soon be out. _Harry Potter threatens student!_

It wasn't as if he would act on his words, but it was merely to frighten the Slytherins into knowing that he hadn't gone soft over the years. He was still the most powerful wizard alive; the one who had defeated Voldemort at only seventeen – and he didn't want them to forget it.

**...-----...-----...**

**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Sorry for the incredibly late update. Year 11 officially sucks. I've had homework every single night for the last two weeks, and I only managed to write BTEOFH and SM between study breaks. Sigh… Now I have to go and finish the chapter for BOH, which is barely half written. And plus, my computer has been completely cleaned out, so it's free of viruses and all that crap. My internet has been stuffing up; it won't let me read any stories or new chapters on Portkey. I have no idea why! So that means I can't read all the good, new chapters that have been uploaded in the last week and a bit, even though I desperately want to!**

**This year, definitely sucks.**

**Thanks to those that have reviewed; yay I got to OVER 250! Yay! I can't believe it! I wonder what I will get to this chapter! Please review and all that!**

**Thanks and Later Days…**

**DW**


	27. The Fear Disease

**Chapter 27 – **

**The Fear Disease**

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…**-…-…**

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Weeks came and went, with Harry slowly settling into the life of teaching. His classes became quite enjoyable; feelings of pride and joy swelled inside him whenever one of his students learnt something new. _His _students. There was still the occasional snide remark from one of the Slytherins, or an overwhelmingly irritating meeting with one of his 'fans'.

Girls cornered him in the corridors, wanting autographs on parchment, pieces of their clothing, and even on some places of their bodies. Harry shooed them away, his annoyance and frustration growing almost every day. Hermione and the other professors told him to just ignore them, that everything would soon die down.

It was going into his first month as a professor at Hogwarts, and each day wasn't over until one such incident occurred. Earlier that morning, a seventh- year Ravenclaw girl had been in his office when he entered it before class. She had thrown herself upon him, delivering red-lipstick kisses over his entire face. He had only just managed to escape her desperate clutches, sprinting away to take refuge in an un-used Transfigurations room a floor above.

His face had been covered in red lip marks.

From that moment on, he swore to keep a permanent Barrier Charm around himself, preventing any unwanted persons from coming within a ten foot distance.

He had had enough.

That was one of the reasons that he and Hermione had decided to throw a housewarming party for their new apartment. They had been arranging it for a while, with that night being the only available date that was suitable for them and their other friends.

…**-…-…**

Harry stood in front of a large, square mirror, scrutinizing his appearance through squinted eyes. "Stay _down!_" he hissed, trying – and failing – to flatten his hair. In the five years that he had been away, his hair had been manageable, sitting perfectly around his face.

It seemed as though its unruliness had been triggered by the magic, because ever since he had re-entered the Wizarding World, it had decided to pick up its old tricks.

And it was starting to frustrate him.

"Stupid hair," he growled, splashing great dollops of water onto his head. All he managed to do was create rivulets of cool water down his face and neck. He sighed.

"That's it dear; you can't have everything," his mirror told him with a sweet voice. Harry glared at his reflection before wiping down his shirt and pants, and walking from the room. the apartment of his and Hermione's was now decorated in homely touches; photographs, family objects and school items, such as a Quidditch Trophy that Harry had been given when his team had won the Quidditch Tournament in seventh year. Such things brought new, unknown but not unwelcome, emotions and feelings trickling through his being. It allowed him to remember and _know _that this was home. This was where he lived, with one of his best friends.

He had never had something so comforting.

The Living Room was decorated in light blues and white, the ceiling enchanted by Hermione to show the sky; it was nearing dark, with the great expanse of universe cast in a delicate shade of pink and gold, deepening into red and then black at the far edges of the horizon.

A fireplace sat opposite a semi-circle of armchairs and a long, curving leather sofa; decorated with fluffy red pillows, courtesy of Hermione. A great rectangular frame was perched atop the mantle. It was an intricately carved, dark ruby red wood, with it shining in the brightness in the room. And in its centre was a photograph.

Harry smiled out, his face happy, caught in eternal bliss, and at his sides was his family. Hermione and Ron stood on either side of him, their arms around each other, with broad smiles on each of their faces. Behind and around them was the Weasley Family, all of them minus the third son: the traitor. Like a forest of flaming trees, their hair glittered as if made from the very embers of a fire.

Harry went to Hogwarts small, alone and unloved.

And he left a tall man, alone, but with the love of an entire family. He was not born a Weasley; he didn't have flaming red hair or a face full of freckles.

He was not born to Arthur and Molly Weasley. Ron was not his brother. And the Burrow was not his home.

But they made him feel every part of that family. They made him feel like a Weasley. They made him feel home. Arthur and Molly were not his parents, but they were as close as anyone could ever be. Ron was the first friend he had ever made, and he would be his last friend, when the two of them were sitting together in rocking chairs, laughing at a joke long since forgotten. They were brothers.

The Weasley's were his family. No matter his hair colour, or freckle-less face. And the photo would forever be a reminder that he was not alone. That he was not unloved. The photo was a symbol of everything good and everything worth fighting for – everything worth dying for.

It was a family photograph.

Harry found himself staring at the twinkling smile on Ginny's face. She was standing on the other side of Hermione, her hand clamped within Harry's at the top of her shoulder. Her face was alight in the innocence of youth; eyes sparkling with the very life she deserved. She looked so carefree, so happy, and so beautiful, that Harry never wanted to look away lest she vanish.

"You know I love you, but I may get a little jealous if you kept staring at that photo," a voice said. Harry turned to see Ginny leaning against the frame of the front door, a soft smile playing at her lips. Harry grinned broadly.

"Hello gorgeous," he said as Ginny giggled. He took three long steps towards her and wrapped his arms around her petite body. Their lips met and they shared a passionate kiss, lost in their own timeless world.

"If you don't stop soon I may have to remove that tongue of yours, Harry, before you do something else with it." Ron said from the hallway as they stayed together a few seconds longer before pulling apart.

"Spoil sport," Harry muttered to his redheaded friend before releasing his girlfriend and giving Ron a one armed hug.

"First Ginny and now Ron, c'mon Harry, you can't have them all!" Hermione said in a humorous voice, as she left her bedroom.

Harry bowed his head and sighed loudly, wiping away an invisible tear. "I know, but you can't stop a guy from trying, can you?"

…**-…-…**

The war was steadily growing.

Attacks were almost everyday now, with Aurors or Ministry Workers disappearing, to reappear a few days later, cold, lifeless ... dead. Fear was thick and stifling, running though the school and community like a contagious disease that everyone had caught. Witches and wizards kept their children inside at all times, not daring to let them out to play lest it be the last game they play. People stopped going to work, afraid that they would not return home that day.

The times were darkening, fear circulating, and still the Dark Lord stayed without name and face. Their spies returned from Death Eaters meetings sore, pale-faced and heads bowed. Everyone was scared and confused, not knowing who would be next to fall and not sure if they _wanted _to know.

The Hogwarts population was slowly decreasing; one to five students were taken from the school each week. Parents were frightened for their children's safety, thinking it would be best if they were at home, with them. But how wrong they were.

At Hogwarts was the best protection anyone could ever have. Harry was there, struggling to keep teaching and pretend the on-going battle was not happening. But, inside, he was being pulled apart.

Everyday he feared one of his friends would fall to the shadows. He was even scared for Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, because they were the ones risking their lives each day, going into the centre of darkness, blind and relying on that tiny sliver of hope that resided in their caged hearts that everything would be fine. That they would walk away from everything one day, free from their past and the chains binding them to the darkness.

Days came and went, with the world holding its breath, waiting for the moment that everything would fall apart. Death was everywhere, no one was safe. Even the muggles had noticed the numerable and unknown deaths of many of their kind; their News Headlines were full of the mysterious fatalities and disappearances.

Both worlds were thrown into disordered chaos that only war could create. No one had seen such fear since the time of Voldemort, when no one had been safe, not even the Dark Lord's followers, who screamed as they were mercilessly tortured.

And still Harry put up a brave face, attending staff meetings at Hogwarts and Order Meetings in Grimmauld Place. Night had never seemed as dark as it was inside that house; the shadows seemed like the demons they were facing and the endless memories only intensified the fear inside them.

Harry made excuses to go and see the Weasley's at every chance he got. They were the only family he had and he was not going to let anything happen to them. Remus was now living at Hogwarts at McGonagall's orders, so Harry would not worry over the man, and so he would be closer to the Order.

Hermione and Harry sometimes sat in the silence of the Great Hall, long after the rest of the school had went to bed, in silent thought. For some reason, them being together in the place they grew up was comforting. It gave them hidden strength and the courage to keep going, to live through this war.

Sometimes, Ron joined them. The three of them would sit in the shadows, in their own little world, remembering other times when they had sat together in this same place, smiling, enjoying their youth. But, like those times, their much needed life was disrupted by the horrors of war. It seemed that they couldn't be together without something wanting to part them.

But, they still sat together, the three of them like old times.

Harry visited Ginny regularly, their relationship growing stronger at each passing second. Their love blossomed into a deep connection, many astounded that their love was as strong as it was while a battle raged on around them. Many thought it was amazing, and it was good for them both, especially Harry, to finally have something to live for.

But others didn't think it was such a great idea. With the Dark Lord targeting Harry, and trying to find ways to destroy him, his love for Ginny could be used against him. If word got out that they were together and very much in love, it could turn very nasty extremely quickly.

No one wanted Harry to lose anyone else close to him, as it would be just enough to tear him in two. But, as Harry and Ginny stayed together, the fear grew as to how long their love would last, and how long before, once again, Harry lost another loved one.

Some time near the end of October, when Harry and Hermione had invited over Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville, Ginny fell ill. Apparently it was a stomach bug, as Mr. Weasley had caught it as well, and was bed-ridden for the good part of a week. So the get-together went on, with Harry laughing here and there, wondering if she was all right, and if he would be able to visit her at the Burrow.

…**-…-…**

It was a few weeks later, when Mr. Weasley fell incredibly sick. The stomach bug had returned, forcing the Minister to step down from his post and seek much needed rest. But no matter how much of Molly's soup he had, it wouldn't stay down. Gradually, he grew worse, his body slowly deteriorating as the illness savagely attacked his body.

In the middle of November, he was admitted to St Mungo's.

The Healer's were baffled as to what was wrong with him, as his symptoms weren't placed with any Magical or Muggle disease they had ever seen. He didn't have a fever, but quite the reverse. His body was incredibly cold and no amount of fire, potions or blankets could keep him warm.

He was placed in an Intensive Care Unit, in a private room that was magically heated and isolated incase his sickness became contagious.

Harry, Hermione and the other Weasley's visited him almost every day, as well as some of the Family's close friends. And while Mr Weasley was sick in hospital, Ron was the new replacement Minister. Many doubted his abilities as a leader and political figure, remembering him as a goofy boy from Hogwarts, and Harry Potter's 'side-kick'.

Ron proved them all wrong, and unleashed a large amount of potential as a future leader, showing great abilities at figuring out problems and creating strategies that will help them in the war-effort. He sometimes contacted Harry and Hermione, to ask them for their opinion or answers. They answered him with much enthusiasm, knowing Ron was the perfect man to take over his father's position.

…**-…-…**

On one such visit to Mr. Weasley's hospital room, Harry and the others were sitting around Arthur's bed, talking politics. Ginny was now well again, her own strike with the stomach-bug having passed, leaving her a little frazzled but still quite well. When a comfortable silence fell on the group, Harry told them he was going for some coffee, and left the room with a soft smile.

_I hope he gets better soon, _Harry thought with a frown, walking down the white corridors of Mungo's. As he turned a corner to head to the Tea Room, he froze in his tracks. Draco Malfoy was walking quickly towards him, his hair in disarray, clothes dirty and face paler than usual. When he caught sight of Harry, he broke into a run, skidding to a halt in front of him, his eyes fearful.

"Malfoy, what is it?" Harry said hurriedly, knowing that there was meant to be Death Eater meeting that night, and for Malfoy to come here in the state he was in, something bad must have happened.

"Potter," he said quickly, his grew eyes flickering to each side for any sign of listeners.

"Spit it out already! What happened?" Harry hissed, a sickening feeling spreading through his body. Draco's eyes rested on his and Harry saw the great fear and regret inside the steely depths.

"The Minister has been poisoned," the words, spoken so softly, cut through Harry's heart.

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**Disclaimer -** I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Howdy!**

**Duh duh duh!**

**The mystery unfolds. Mr. Weasley has been poisoned – What was the poison used? Will he pull through? No one knows, not even me.**

**This chapter took ages to come out because I didn't know what to write and I'm still not happy with it. I might speed this story up, because I want to finish it. This is the longest story I've ever written, as of chapter twenty-two, and I feel it's getting boring as I keep going. So I will speed this up, with the next chapter the full details on Mr. Weasley's illness, if there is a cure, who poisoned him, telling the family and all that. So until then...**

**Please review and thanks to those that have so far!**

**And a humungous thanks to Quillian for sending me the lyrics to the song at the start of the chapter. You rock! And though the lyrics don't really go with this chapter, I thought they were good for a Harry Potter story. Thanks again!**

**Later Days...**

**DW**


	28. Poison

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**Chapter 28 – **

**Poison**

**...---...---...**

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The rain fell as a light mist, covering the emerald grass in tiny diamond drops of water. The sky was grey and cold, hanging low, weighed down by the meaning of this day. As if it was dragged down by the multitude of salty tears. The ground was flat and hard, scattered with cement blocks and statues, sitting in parallel rows that stretched far through the moist fog like spectral figures, hunched and straight-backed.

A soft wind blew through the leaves and branches of trees, bordering the humped landscape as ancient guards, whispering secrets that would never be heard. The breeze whistled through the stone blocks, carrying with it the haunting sounds of someone crying.

Up three rows and across two, through a small iron gate with a faded and rusty sign stating a family name, the whimpers grew louder and more pained. Inside the confides of the iron fence, many cement blocks sat with grass growing at their bases, and flowers sprouting from the muddy earth like tiny rays of hope. But the rain cascaded atop their coloured tops, taking their life, smothering the light that they wished to bring.

They had no right to be in this place.

Statues loomed in the fog. Some of creatures, sitting straight or rearing on hind legs with their mighty legs growing from cement blocks beneath their feet. Some of men and women, standing tall and proud, faces forward, chins up, smiles on their cold lips, and their eyes set to forever stare at some unseen spot in the distance. Watching for an unknown place. Waiting for a nameless person.

An eternity they had to wait.

One tall figure stood above the rest, grey arms poised on his hips, face forward, lines circling once kind eyes. They were now blank, cold, and unseeing. Beneath his large, booted feet with laces that would stay tied forever, was a plaque. It was shiny and slippery with the rain, the engraved words now filled with water, giving it a somewhat hazy appearance. The words, printed into the hard brass, were still readable.

In front of this noble form, was a group of figures; wet and drooped much like the flowers at their feet. The rain fell down atop them, drenching the thick clothes they wore. But they couldn't feel the cold through the pain that riddled their bodies. It struck at them in fierce bouts of sorrow and fear, tearing at their hearts that were already broken.

Shattered.

Shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.

They would never be whole again.

There would always be a piece missing.

Through the group of people, all staring at the plaque with wet eyes, were heads of red hair. It used to shine so brightly, drawing attention in crowds, and being the source of much humour. It was now faded, dark, and blank. It stuck to heads as if painted on in a murky brown, almost completely unseen against the white fog surrounding them.

And the faces.

Faces of haunted souls, of broken hearts, of undecipherable loss. Eyes stared out swamped with salty tears, slipping down rain-washed cheeks, spotted with faint marks that were previously freckles. Bodies were hunched, shaking, and defeated. Everything was black; superstitious, evil, death.

Death.

A woman stood between many red-haired men, her face covered in tears and rain. Her brown eyes were bloodshot and red, with thick lines running beneath them. They were the eyes of a heartbroken woman. Of a friend having lost her companion. Of a lover having lost her partner. Of a wife having lost her husband.

They were the eyes of Molly Weasley, staring painfully at the grave of her husband, her friend, her love. Arthur.

Then there he was. A dark figure, staring with a pair of haunted green eyes, with his hair draped across his face like a black curtain. A veil. The fog rolled around him and the rain cascaded down ... down ... down. And still the tombstone sat before him, solid and cold, a reminder of he who was lost. It loomed in front of them, the stone statue staring down at them with eyes supposed to be _his_. But they weren't. They could never be. Never.

Harry looked at the grave of his old friend. And he read the words spoken about him, describing the man buried beneath the hard earth.

**Here Lies **

**Arthur Harold Weasley**

**1953 - 2002**

**Husband of Molly**

**And Father of Seven**

**All Loved Equally and Without Spare**

**Arthur**

**You are a leader **

**A father, a husband, a friend**

**You are the one we will always love**

**From now, until the end**

**Arthur**

**May You Rest In Peace**

**Eternally**

The words brought no comfort, no reprieve from the harsh reminder that was war. Arthur was gone. Yet another fallen pawn in the giant chess game that was life. Harry Potter stared at the tall man standing on a block of stone, face set in gentle kindness, eyes staring blankly forward. They would never see again.

**...-...-...**

He jerked awake with a painful sob.

It was so white. The corridor stretched far on either side of him, a loud beeping resonated from a distant room. It was thick with the dreaded silence of sickness and death. The air smelt of potions and soap, it tickled at his nose with daring vulgarity. He sniffed, ridding his body of the stench of the hospital and the much despised emotion that threatened to take over. A nurse walked by, the soft falls of her feet reverberating down the long hall. She gave him a small, sympathetic smile, before continuing along the corridor.

Hushed voices could be heard from the room behind him. He stood silently, images of the dream floating in his mind like a terrible horror movie that would never leave his conscience. It would always be there, sitting beyond his sight, mocking him, a vision of what may come. He rubbed his hands on his pants, trying to wipe away the sweat that coated his palms. Everything was so surreal. The door was partly open, allowing the sounds of voices to float through in different octaves, on invisible currents of air. He pushed open the door and slipped in unnoticed.

The scene would forever be with him.

A hospital bed sat against one wall that held framed photographs that were now still. In the bed lay a man. His face was pale and a light sickly green, hair faded, grey, and in places missing. The sheets clung to a frail body, slowly deteriorating and thinning. Soon, it would be no more than the sheets that tried so desperately to cover it.

Around the bed were many people. Their own faces were pale and drawn, eyes red, puffy, with no more tears to fall. A woman sat on a chair by the man's head, her hand clutching his while she spoke in soft tones to ears that could no longer hear. A young women stood against the far wall, her hair shriveled and hanging in dank curls around a pained face. Her head turned to the side when Harry stepped closer to her. Her brown eyes spoke volumes of the pain she felt. Her heart was breaking, splintering into tiny fragments of the full family she once had. When he reached her, she collapsed into his arms, her sobs silent, only known by the shaking of her back.

Harry looked around at the family he called his own, all crying and hurt by the tragedy that had befallen their father and husband. Arthur was dying, slowly and painfully. The poison was coursing through his veins like venom from a snake. It plagued his body, attacking his weakening heart, strangling his lungs that struggled to bring in oxygen. It was a failed attempt.

It had been three days since news came of the sickness plaguing the Minister. And it had been three days – three torturous, frenzied days – of trying to find a cure that didn't exist. Potions were brought in and given to the dying man. And potions were taken out, useless as the words spoken to lesson the endless pain. No one wanted to give up the miniscule piece of hope that still resided in each of them. No one wanted to listen to the Healers, saying that their cause was useless, that Mr. Weasley would _not _make it through the next week.

They wouldn't listen. They wouldn't.

Harry held Ginny in his arms, feeling the wetness of her tears touch the skin on his shoulder. He felt her small body shake in anguish and pain. He held her, knowing it was all he could do. Emotion tumbled down on him, wanting release. But he had to be strong for them all. He had to be the one to stand tall, the one that they could rely on and lean on. His eyes stung with tears but he demanded them to go away. He didn't want or need them.

A hand touched his shoulder. He looked up into them defeated face of Bill Weasley, his arms open, Harry nodded and let him take Ginny from his arms. The girl moved over to her eldest brother where she dissolved into tears once more. They moved into the semi-darkness by the wall, two siblings trying to survive through the pain.

Harry was left alone in the very picture of misery. He didn't belong here with a broken family. So he left them, the Weasley's, the family he loved as his own, once he was out in the white corridor, he let the tears takeover. He turned to the wall, swallowing the sob that wanted to erupt from his mouth. His eyes stung and cheeks tingled with the salty tears that ran down them. He thumped the wall. Once – twice – before he felt another hand on his arm. He opened his eyes and turned to find Hermione standing beside him, her face a reflection of his. She pulled him into a hug, which he returned forcefully.

There the two of them stood, in an embrace in the corridor of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The two of them. Those who weren't part of the broken family in the room behind them but felt the shards of pain just as much.

**...-...-...**

"There has to be something we can do!" Harry said angrily, turning sharply to Hermione. It was slowly dragging into the thirteenth day of Arthur Weasley's sickness. The Head Healer at St Mungo's said that the poison would take the Minister's life by the twentieth day, in which his heart would just stop beating. Hermione looked sadly up at him, her brown eyes damp with defeat.

"We've looked, Harry, there's not –"

"I'm not just going to sit here while my best friend's father dies!" he shouted as a grotesque glass vase that had been sitting on a far table, exploded. Hermione flinched but only dropped her head. "There has to be something!"

"We looked –"

"We haven't looked hard enough!" Harry said painfully. "We know what the poison is! Why can't we research it, find out its properties, and do the opposite! That's how antidotes are made, aren't they? We can do that!"

"Harry, no! We've looked up the poison, and there is _no _antidote, _no_ cure. The Draught of Eternal Death is just that! There is no escape from it! It was made so no one could survive it, no one could be resurrected if they died by drinking it! The chances of Arthur surviving this are infinity to one! Harry, he will die. There's nothing we can do."

That was Hermione. Smartest witch of her age, bookworm, teachers pet. And she was always right. Always.

He sat down with a defeated sigh, placing a shaking hand to his head which was spinning much like his world at the moment. Grimmauld Place was cold and empty apart from the few scattered Order Members that were trying to keep working without many of their number. The entire Weasley family were at St Mungo's, at the bedside of their father and husband, waiting for the ghost of a chance of his recovery. Harry and Hermione sat in one of the old, discarded bedrooms, scraps of paper and quills littering the floor, a sign of their hopelessness.

"We need to keep searching. We can't give up. We can never give up," Harry said, breaking the heavy silence. Hermione sidled over to him beside a large, chipped wooden desk. She put a hand on his shoulder and he could feel her nodding.

"Never," she whispered.

**...-...-...**

Harry and Hermione continued teaching at Hogwarts, the days molding into one long nightmare. Each day they feared that news would come via owl, telling them that Arthur was gone. They continued their search for an antidote. For anything that would help Mr. Weasley. They spent most of their free time in the library, like their own school days. Back then they would search for information on a curse, or the Philosopher's Stone. Harry would give anything to go back to his first- year. Everything was so much simpler. But he couldn't. He was stuck here, in this war-torn world, wondering when the day would come when everything would fall apart.

One morning an article appeared on the front page of the _Daily Prophet. _Everyone had feared this day, when a reporter would get wind of the true nature behind the Minister's sickness. And today, it came.

**.-.**

_**POISON AT THE MINISTRY**_

_For many days we have been wondering where our dear Minster had gone. His closest advisers and family members told us that he had caught a bad case of wizard's flu. We believed them, knowing one's so close to the Minister would never lie. But today, fellow readers, the truth has been found._

_On the 21st of November Arthur Weasley was admitted to St Mungo's Hospital, suffering symptoms none had ever seen. The Healers were baffled as to what illness was ravaging his body. His family stayed at his bedside, telling him not to worry, that all would be fine._

_All is not fine, as we discovered early this morning. Our Minster for Magic has been poisoned. But not by just any poison. By the Draught of Eternal Death. Arthur Weasley is now lying on his death bed, slowly fading, taking with him the love of an entire nation and his extensive family. In just days he may fall into the darkness, leaving behind a growing war and his post as Minster for Magic._

_At this moment, his son, Ronald Weasley, is filling in his post as High Ruler. Many feared he was inexperienced and a bad choice as our leader, but as time passes, we have found that the youngest son of Arthur Weasley has inherited more things from his father than appearance. _

_Many have been asking who is responsible for this heinous crime. But as we are in the middle of war, all are suspects, even the trustful servants of the Minister, who have thus far stayed silent. Could this be the latest attack from the new Dark Lord? Has he decided that now is the time to strike? When the nation is in devastation over their Minister and suspicion is thick in the air._

_We at the _Daily Prophet _send our deepest sympathies to the friends and family of Arthur Weasley, and we hope that the world can recover from his passing in time to face the Third War._

_**By Rita Skeeter**_

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"They make it sound as though he's already dead!" Hermione said in a distraught voice, as she and Harry quickly left the Great Hall. The students could be heard chatting excitedly over this new information even from behind the closed double doors. Rage was slowly building inside him. He clenched and unclenched his fists as the two of them walked out of the castle and down the front steps. The sky was grey, full of looming clouds that threatened rain. Harry glanced at it and immediately remembered his dream. His rage was replaced with fear.

"What if they try to overthrow Ron?" he said, turning quickly to Hermione. She looked him curiously.

"They can't, he was chosen by the Minister to replace him if – something ever happened to him," she said softly.

"No, but what if they find a way to get him out of office. What if they poison him as well, to try to get a Minister _they _want!" Harry said quickly, his panic building. Hermione was still looking at him in confusion, before her eyes widened.

"Oh, no! You're right! They poisoned Arthur so he couldn't be Minister and they could put one of theirs in his place, but now that Ron is Minister –"

"They might try to get rid of him, too!" Harry finished for her with sudden fear. "We need to warn him!"

"But we have classes!" Hermione said distractedly, as Harry stared at her.

"You would rather teach classes than go to your best friend and see if he's alright?" he said in disbelief. Hermione looked at him for a moment before she shook her head as if trying to rid it of a certain thought.

"You're right, sorry. Let's go."

**...-...-...**

"I've already thought of that," Ron said the moment they cornered him as he entered his office that morning. The redhead was looking incredibly pale and drawn, his once sparkling eyes now vacant and sad.

"Oh, really?" Harry said, looking at him in relief. Ron nodded seriously.

"Yeah. I have Aurors guarding every entrance and exit in the Ministry. Plus, I have Kingsley and Tonks as my guards in case these people strike again. I want to catch my father's attackers, if it's the last thing I do." A strange fire was burning in Ron's eyes. A light of vengeance. Hermione and Harry left the Ministry not long after, spinning through the floo network to arrive in Harry's room at Hogwarts.

"So, now that we now Ron is safe, we can get back to seeing what we can do for Arthur," Harry said, pacing the length of the room while Hermione sighed.

"We've searched through the entire castle, Harry, there's nowhere we haven't looked!" Hermione said in defeat as Harry turned on her. He creased his brow, trying to grasp a memory that had been triggered by her words.

**.-.**

"_Here, Harry, take this." The headmaster placed a chain in his hand. Attached was a silver key, no bigger than his little finger. _

"_What is it for?" Harry asked, staring into Albus Dumbledore's clear blue eyes._

"_I can not tell you that, but one day, when the time is right, you will know what to do with it and what lock it fits." said the old man, smiling in that familiar way._

**.-.**

"I know where we haven't looked," Harry said, looking up at Hermione with a bright glint in his eyes. Minerva McGonagall was the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and in her current position she was allowed the head office, situated in the middle of the school. But, haunted by memories, and pulled back by emotion, she left that particular office alone, instead making one beneath it. It was not her office and never would be. It would always belong to one Albus Dumbledore.

The stone gargoyle was stained with age now. Guarding a bare-patch of wall with its large, stone form, it had not moved in over five years. Harry stood before it, caught in memory, trying to remember the last password that had been used. After a moment, it came to him, like a wave crashing upon a sandy shore.

"Sugar Quills," he said softly. The stone gargoyle slowly grinded to motion, springing aside with a loud groan. The wall behind it creaked open, revealing a staircase that no longer revolved. Cobwebs hung across the walls in peculiar patterns that Harry would have found amazing on any other occasion. He and Hermione began their slow trek up the stairs, their steps soft, leaving imprints in the thick dust. They reached the top, and were now facing a pair of double doors; they were still open from the day the headmaster had rushed through them upon hearing a commotion in the school grounds. With a deep, shaking breath, Harry stepped through.

The room was exactly as he remembered it.

Tables around the room were sitting with silver instruments atop them, now dangling with cobwebs and coated in grime. Books sat on shelves, spines covered in dust, their titles hardly readable. At the far end of the room was a large desk, its surface covered in parchment and a dry pot of ink with a long eagle-feather quill stuck in the middle. A glass jar sat in its centre, filled with stale lemon drops.

And behind this desk was a bare perch that once housed a majestic phoenix. Fawkes had burst into flame the day Albus Dumbledore died. He didn't rise back from the ashes.

Harry fingered the key hanging from his neck, looking around the office with a thumping heart. Hermione was standing at a bookcase, scanning the titles of a few tomes after she had wiped them from dust. Along one wall was a row of empty canvases, their occupants long since gone. But one portrait was not empty. It looked new, with a backdrop of Hogwarts castle and its emerald lawns. Standing in the middle of the portrait was an old man with blue eyes that twinkled with life.

"I know what you are looking for, Harry, and I believe it is in a cabinet behind my desk," said Albus Dumbledore with a small, painted smile. Harry bit back the urge to shout; instead he nodded once, feeling a great weight settle over his heart. He knew what he would find in this office, and who he would see sitting on the wall. He couldn't let himself believe in something that was gone, and cry over someone who was no longer there. He had cried too much.

He walked over behind the headmaster's desk, feeling Hermione's eyes on his back. He found the cabinet he was looking for and pulled it open. Inside, sitting on the first shelf, was a glass phial filled with a clear liquid. He reached out and picked it up, wiping away the dust that was covering the label. He read it and smiled. Written in black, curly writing, were the words, **_Phoenix Tears. _**

He turned back to thank the painting of his old headmaster . . . but the frame was now empty.

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**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Surprise, surprise. I bet many of you thought that Harry's key would open the cabinet and you would all find out what Dumbledore's last secret was. But, alas, it is not true. **

**But, guess what the next chapters called?**

Chapter 29 – Dumbledore's Last Secret.

**Duh, duh, duh! LOL. You all found out what is hidden in the headmaster's office, behind a locked door, with a lock that only one key can open. But, I have to tell you, two MAJOR things happen in the next chapter. And I mean major. This story will only have a few chapters left, maybe five, at most. I think. I'm not sure. We'll see when we see.**

**Ok, I wrote all this today, yes, I know, I'm slack. But at least it's out.**

**Please review and all that, and thanks to those that have so far!**

**Later Days...**

**DW**


	29. Dumbledore's Last Secret

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**Chapter 29 – **

**Dumbledore's Last Secret**

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"Has there been any change?" Harry asked a blonde-haired healer, while Hermione slipped into the hospital room behind him. The witch looked out at him with dark eyes filled with sympathy. And she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, there's nothing else we can do but make the minister as comfortable and painless as we can." With those words said, the healer gave him a sad smile, and walked away down the hall. Harry watched her go, staring at her white shiny shoes, and listened to the steady tap that they made as they hit the hard, tiled floor. He stood there, his body numb, and head throbbing with those six, simple words.

"_There's nothing else we can do."_

He rubbed his eyes, wishing the emotion away. He had to be strong. With one last, desperate look down the long, sweeping hall, he sighed, bowed his head, and entered the room.

He hated going in there. It was so depressing and painful, seeing the entire Weasley Family sitting around Arthur's bed, knowing that he would die. They knew this. And they knew that there was nothing anyone could do to stop the poison from taking his life. Nothing.

He spotted Ginny sitting in a chair at the back of the room; shadows hid her tear-stained face and lank her. Her eyes, blood-shot and puffy, looked out at her father. There were no more tears to fall. Harry walked over to her, unnoticed by everyone else. As he approached, he noticed that she looked incredibly pale and green, her hands shaking as they rested on her knees. He slipped down to her side, stretching an arm around her shoulder. She didn't even have the energy to start as her eyes widened in shock at seeing him there.

He leant down and delivered a soft, tender kiss to her temple. She tried to smile, but only managed a twisted grimace before her face scrunched up. He pulled her into his chest, holding her tight as her shoulders wracked horribly, and eyes tried to dispel imaginary tears. He held her, as Hermione watched on, eyes moist, and a hand hiding her quivering lips.

**...-...-...**

"C'mon, Hermione, think of the most powerful healing potion you have ever read, or heard about." Harry said quickly, wringing his hands. He could feel the glass of phoenix tears in his pocket; it was pulling down, as if each growing second that Arthur Weasley spent in St Mungo's made it heavier, and harder to hold. The burden of what they were doing was growing larger. The responsibility was dragging them down, slowing their progress, and affecting their thoughts. What they were doing could determine whether Mr. Weasley lived ... or died.

Hermione was distraught. "I don't know, Harry! Maybe the Eliminating Elixir?"

"Will that allow a mix with phoenix tears?" he asked her, patting his pocket to make sure the vital liquid was still in place. Hermione's brow furrowed.

"I don't think so. The aconite will react with it producing a p-paralyzing formula, while all other ingredients will be useless," she said with a deep frown.  
There is the Draught of Peaceful Poisons, but I think that needs a month to make."

"Well are there any more potions which can be mixed with phoenix tears without any of the other ingredients becoming inactive _and _it can be finished in under a week?" Harry asked his frustration mounting. It had been five long hours after their discovery of the phoenix tears, and it had been five long hours without any progress on their research.

"Oh, I've got it!" Hermione cried victoriously, standing quickly to show him a book. "It's the Advanced Healing Potion, that can heal most things from minor breaks to general poisons."

"Than how is that good for us? We need something that can remove a major, normally fatal poison!" Harry said with a groan. Hermione snatched the book back from him.

"I _know! _But if we add the phoenix tears in with it, as well as a bezoar that has been soaking in mandrake juice for half a day, _then _the different properties will react, forming a stronger healing draught, which should, if we're lucky, eliminate the poison coating Arthur's stomach. But, the problem with this is that the consumer needs to be in a state of peace and semiconscious, so the poison is active but not overly so. But Arthur is unconscious right now."

Harry creased his brow, his heart thumping away beneath his ribs. They were so close...

"What if we gave Arthur the Draft of Peace? That way, he will be in a state of peace and semiconscious, as the potion will wake him anyway?" Harry asked as Hermione's eyes lit up.

"I didn't know you liked Potions?"

"I do as long as Snape isn't teaching; that's why I got an outstanding in it in NEWTs," he answered distractedly, "so will that work?"

"I think so. But we have another problem," she said, looking up from the book, chewing her bottom lip.

"What is it? Harry asked, feeling his stomach drop.

"The potion takes a week to brew," he creased his brow, wondering what was wrong with that. Hermione seemed to understand his confusion because she answered him. "Mr. Weasley only has five days."

**...-...-...**

They worked night and day on the potion. They took off classes, getting substitutes to fill in for them and mark papers and homework. They skipped lunch and dinner, only nibbling on random pieces of food that only took a small amount of time to consume. Their every hour was filed in with tiresome research in the library's restricted section, or spending hour upon hour in the cold, endless dungeons.

The potion was steadily strengthening, becoming an incredibly powerful healing potion than had ever seen before. Harry and Hermione were working blindfolded, not knowing if what they were trying to accomplish would work, or if one of these days, and owl would find them, bearing news of Arthur's death. They told none of their workings, afraid that hopes would be raised, only to crash down once they discovered the potion was as useless as Snape in a dress.

"Add the powdered root of asphodel," Hermione murmured, her face hidden behind a thin stream of wavering smoke, flickering as if she was an old movie rewinding. Harry took up the measuring cup full of a light green powder. He gently sprinkled it over the top of the potion as Hermione stirred clockwise, mixing the powder through the dark purple potion. It turned a light grey. "Good, we need to let this rest for fifty-five minutes, until the asphodel dissolves, and then we must add the diluted orchid acid."

"Then how long before we can mix in the phoenix tears?" he asked, stepping back into the shadows, where the potion's fumes had not as yet reached. Hermione joined him.

"Eighteen hours, but the potion needs to be 32 degrees exactly, otherwise if it's too hot, the phoenix tears will turn to water and be useless. And if it is under that temperature, the tears will overpower all other ingredients, and the healing properties will be too weak to heal even a minor poison," she said softly, the flames from the fire dancing in her brown eyes as if the light of her life was shining through.

"Then will it heal Arthur?' he asked in a hoarse whisper.

She turned to face him and he saw the indecisiveness in her eyes. "I don't know."

**...-...-...**

The next eighteen hours was the worst they had ever had to sit through. They stayed up all night in the dungeons, watching the potion slowly darken and listening to the crackling of the flames. The whole castle was asleep beneath the starry heavens, with the howling wind their unanimous breath as they stirred in their slumber. None knew of the secret mission two of their own were conducting deep in the bowels of Hogwarts School. None knew of the extraordinary lengths these two people were going to, to save one of their family. None knew, that in just five short hours, a potion would be completed that could save the life of the Minister of Magic, who was riddled by the most powerful poison in the entire universe.

None knew all this, except Harry and Hermione.

They sat in the cold of the dungeons, in the shadow of a solid stone wall, watching, waiting, for the potion to be completed. Mr. Weasley's time was slowly drawing to a close, in just two hours to be precise. And the potion was not due to be completed for another five. They were hoping against every god imaginable that Arthur would be able to hold out until then, otherwise, all was lost.

"How long now?" Hermione asked him softly, shivering at his right. He looked down at his watch and sighed.

"Four hours, forty-seven minutes." He answered, his breath clouding before his eyes. He heard Hermione sigh painfully at his side, so he pulled her closer, draping an arm around her shoulders. She burrowed her head beneath his chin, the flames of the fire reflected in her eyes.

"What if it doesn't work?" she asked after a while, her voice sounding so distant in the room. Harry shifted restlessly.

"It will."

"But what if it doesn't?" she asked again, in barely a whisper this time. There was silence as Harry comprehended her words. They rang through his head, bringing the full implications of what they were dong down onto of him.

"We will try again."

**...-...-...**

Midnight came and went, with Harry and Hermione waiting on chilly breaths for an owl that they feared would come. But soon it was one o'clock, then two, with still no news from St Mungo's or the Weasley's. The potion had less than an hour to go. Hermione was making sure the temperature was still at 32 degrees, when a tapping sounded from outside the wooden door of the dungeon. Harry tensed, exchanging nervous looks with Hermione. He walked forward, his wand ready at his side, before pausing in front of the door. He pushed it open. No one was there.

"Hello?" he asked softly, looking both ways down the stone halls. He saw no one. A hoot sounded from his feet, and he looked down in alarm. An owl was sitting on the cold floor, a letter clamped in its talons. It felt as though his blood had turned to ice. He picked up the envelope with shaking hands, just making out his and Hermione's names scrawled on the front in blotchy writing. The owl took off.

He turned to face back into the room, looking up at Hermione who was staring at him in fear. She took a step forward, her mouth open slightly and eyes wide. He could hear his heart thumping painfully in his chest, and he knew he had never been so anxious in all his life.

"Is it –?" she stammered. He nodded.

"Yes." He said in a hoarse whisper, staring fearfully at the envelope. He opened it slowly, wanting and not wanting to read its contents. Hermione was standing in front of him, her hand touching his arm in a small amount of assurance. He pulled out the small piece of parchment, startled to find it containing only a few short words, smudged by dry tears.

_**He's almost gone.**_

"Is he –?" Hermione's voice cut through his slightly relieved mind, bringing him back to the present and the lifelessly cold dungeon. He shook his head, swallowing a lump that had risen in his throat.

"Not yet."

**...-...-...**

Harry and Hermione were sprinting down the endless white corridors of St Mungo's, their footsteps echoing down each floor. It was just after three o'clock in the morning, and the hospital was silent apart from the insistent beeping resonating from each room. They ran up a staircase before turning left down a long hallway that was cast in shadows. One sliver of light had escaped from the bottom of one door, that a nurse was standing guard at. They skidded to a halt in front of her, both of them breathless.

"Is he – is he –?" Harry stuttered. The nurse shook her head slowly, a sadness in her eyes that he knew all too well.

"But it will be soon," she said softly, moving aside to allow them entrance. Hermione looked at Harry with a pained face and he nodded once, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door. The room was silent when they entered, with the room completely dark apart from a pale yellow light that was shining from a lamp on a bedside table. Molly was sitting at her husbands side, her hand enclosing his in an eternal touch of love, while her tear-filled, puffy eyes, stared at the still face of Arthur. Ron stood off to the side, only his blue eyes seen in the shadows, glowing in the lamp-light. He looked over at them when they entered, and they both could see the sorrow in his gaze. Fred and George stood at the foot of the bed, their faces set in identical looks of pain and a harsh acceptance that Harry found disturbing. Bill and Charlie were leaning against the far wall, eyes on their dying father, as he lay in his hospital cot.

Harry spotted Ginny sitting on the floor by the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocked back and forth. Her usual sparkling eyes were dull and faded, and her glittering red hair was lank and draped across her shoulders in oily folds. In her hands was clasped the family photograph of everyone together, the same one that was situated on the wall of Harry and Hermione's apartment.

A Healer was checking charts on a wall with resigned eyes when Harry and Hermione approached him. "Sir, we believe we have a potion that may save Mr. Weasley's life." Harry said softly, glancing at the Weasley's to make sure they weren't listening. But they all were too involved with their fading dreams to notice their conversation. The Healer stared at him as if he were crazy.

"There is no known cure to this poison!" he hissed in outrage. "I don't know what you're playing at!"

"But we have created an antidote using phoenix tears, that should save him!" Hermione cut in quickly, pulling out a pair of glass phials from her coat. One was a Draft of Peace, and the other was the newly-finished potion. The Healer eyed them distastefully.

"How do I know you're not just trying to speed up this man's death?" he said angrily, not bothering to lower his voice. The Weasley's looked up in alarm, while Molly let out a tearful sob.

"Why would we want to do that? We're only trying to help, and we think this potion will work!" Harry said irritably, his emerald eyes flashing.

"What's this, Harry?" Ron's voice sounded, as the youngest Weasley's son stepped forward. The Healer turned quickly to Ron, his dark eyes widening.

"These _people _believe they have a potion that is capable of healing your father!" he said, motioning to Harry and Hermione who were practically glowing in anger. Ron turned to look at them and they both could see the desperation and hope in his eyes.

"Are you s-serious?" he said painfully, his voice breaking. Harry nodded, glancing at Hermione.

"We don't know if it will work, but we're pretty sure it will." He said softly. "We don't won't to put your hopes up, Ron. This has never been done before."

"If you two have made something that you think will heal my father, I will give you permission to do whatever you need to do." Ron said, ignoring the objections of the healer. Harry and Hermione smiled and nodded.

"Thank you."

They went forward, towards Arthur's hospital bed, trying not to look at his pale, stony face. Molly looked up at them with pleading eyes, and her mouth opened soundlessly, as if she didn't have any life left to speak. Harry gave her a small smile, before turning to Hermione.

"We need to give him the Draft of Peace first, wait for ten minutes, then give him the other potion, right?" he asked in barely a whisper, watching as she nodded, her eyes glued to Arthur's lifeless face.

"Y-yes, we d-do," she stammered softly.

"Hermione, look at me." He said, as she tore her eyes away from the Minister to stare at his calm face. "We need to do this, now, before he gets any worse." She nodded, swallowing, before moving forward with the Peace Draft.

"What are you doing?" Fred asked suddenly as Hermione bent over his father. Harry looked over to him.

"We've been working on a potion that has phoenix tears in it, and we need to have Arthur half-awake for it to work. Do you trust us?" Harry asked softly. Fred looked down at his father and he nodded once, gripping the bed frame tightly. Hermione went forward again, gently opening Arthur's lips and pouring in the Draft of Peace. It took a few moments before anything to happen, but soon the Minister's eyelids flickered and his face relaxed.

When ten minutes past, Harry moved forward to help Hermione administer the second potion. But she was shaking so much that he had to take over, incase she spilled the black liquid before it could be given to Arthur. He steadied his own hands before moving forward to open Arthur's mouth and pour in the entire does of potion. When he had done that, he moved back and watched as the man swallowed before growing still. Hermione stepped to his side, her eyes wide.

"What now?" Ron asked from Harry's other side, his blue eyes glued on his father. Harry looked down also and he sighed loudly.

"We wait."

**...-...-...**

A few hours passed with still no change in Mr. Weasley, though he was still alive when all the Healers thought he would be long dead. Harry left the Hospital Room, knowing Ginny had left not long before. He thought she must have gone to the Tea Room or the bathroom, as she had been gone quite a while.

After a quick look around the Tea Room and not spotting any red hair, he knew Ginny must have gone elsewhere. He searched the entire floor and the one above, and the ones below, with still no sign of her. He even asked a witch who had been exiting the bathroom if he had seen a woman with red hair inside. But there was still no sign of her.

Harry was starting to get worried when his scar seared with pain, though it was incredibly brief. He clamped a hand to his forehead just as sudden, icy fear spread through his body. His sprinted all the way back to Arthur's hospital room, but just as he was about to enter the room, his feet stepped on something course. He looked down to find glass scattered about the white floor, in tiny fragments that caught the light. He knelt down to inspect it further, finding a piece of torn paper on the floor. Curious now, he picked it up to find a message scrawled on the back.

_**Potter, **_

_**Guess who I have? Find her if you can.**_

With shaking hands and a thumping heart, Harry turned the page over and fell backwards onto the glass-strewn floor. It was a photograph. A family photograph. One that was all too familiar. But where his face was supposed to be, there was only a burnt hole, the edges still warm.

**...-...-...**

It had been three days since Ginny had been taken by the Dark Lord. And it had been three days of tears, arguments and useless searching. It seemed as though Ginny had disappeared off the face of the earth. Mr. Weasley was slowly getting better, although in order for this to occur, they had to loose another one they loved dearly.

Order Meetings were conducted all through the day, with both Aurors and order members searching for Ginny Weasley. But, there were no clues as to where she could have been taken. Harry blamed himself, although everyone told him it wasn't his fault. But he knew different, he knew the only reason Ginny was taken was because she loved Harry, and Harry loved her.

There was nothing they could do to get her back. They had nothing to go by, no clues and no witnesses. Each day was like an endless nightmare, except it was real. Harry was sick of hearing that it wasn't his fault. He was sick of doing nothing. In a reckless attempt to find someway of bringing Ginny back, he paid one more visit to Dumbledore's office.

It was just as he and Hermione had left it. It was silent and thick with dust and mystery. The cobwebby silver instruments on the desks no longer clicked and twirled, but he didn't care for that today. He went through each and every cabinet in the headmaster's office. He went through the drawers in his desk, pulling out age-old parchment and notes about candidates for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

He turned around in anguish, finding nothing among the papers in the desk. He looked down at the floor, as furious tears spilled form his eyes. Something from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and gazed over at a large drawer beneath the glass cabinet once housing Gryffindor's Sword. It was a deep drawer, with a simple keyhole right in the middle. Something about it pulled to him, so he dropped to the floor and crawled towards it. He traced the keyhole with his finger, as something clicked in his mind. In one flash movement, he had the chain around his neck off, and watched the key dangling from his palm. He stared at it for a few seconds before taking it up in his fingers and placing it in the keyhole and turning it. It fit perfectly.

He pulled the drawer open, listening as it scraped along a thick layer of dust. Inside was a wide, black bowl, with the middle of it supporting a thin, silvery spider's web, that glittered in a white light that was shining from the inside of the dish. With a thumping heart and open mouth, Harry reached down and pulled out Dumbledore's Penseive. It was scratched and spotted with age and constant use, but it still evoked strange memories inside his heart. He placed it on the headmaster's desk as he sat down in the purple armchair behind it. He stared at it for a few moments, knowing now was the time to do what Albus Dumbledore had wanted him to do so long ago. Now was the time to find out what was kept hidden from him for so many years.

He pulled out his wand and dipped it into the swirling mists of thought. When he pulled it out, a figure came with it. It was a miniature version of Albus Dumbledore, turning slowly, staring out with eyes that held no twinkle. Harry leant forward in desperation.

_**Hello, Harry, if you are hearing this than I have began my next great adventure and passed on from this world. Do not worry yourself about it, dear boy, for I do not worry about it. Death, is as I said, the next great adventure. My time on earth is over, my flame extinguished, but I will light another candle and start another journey. **_

**_I cannot say that I was always proud of my life. I did some very foolish and reckless things in my time. Most of them are to do with you. I have kept many secrets from you my dear boy, but I kept them from you because I believed I was keeping you safe. But now that I look back at the things I have done and said, were not truly keeping you safe. They were only fueling your distrust of myself, and for that, I am eternally sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Harry, I only wished the best for you. I always have._**

_**But it is now that I talk to you, that I must confess another mistake I have made. For, I have kept one other secret for all these years. I was planning to tell you after your graduation from Hogwarts, thinking that would be the most appropriate time. But, if you are listening to me now, I have failed you yet again, for it means I have left without telling you another part of your destiny.**_

**_I am eternally sorry, Harry, for all the things I did. But remember that I only did them because I loved you. And still do. I hope that you are able to forgive an old man, who does not deserve forgiveness._**

__

The rotating figure of Dumbledore sighed, before pulling off his glasses and wiping them on his long sweeping robes. When he placed his half-moon spectacles back on his nose, Harry leant forward even more, until he was almost touching the spectral man.

"_**The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will have a son . . . mothered by the last and only in a line of fire, and heir to the mighty lion . . . powers only the father can match, will he bear . . . born as the fifth month rises and when the moon is split . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will have a son . . ."**_

And suddenly, it all made sense.

**.-.-.**

**.-.-.**

**.-.-.**

**.-.-.**

**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Duh, duh, duh! Hey all, and look at that cliff-hanger! I told you two major things were going to happen in this chapter, and there they were. Ginny was kidnapped and a prophecy was revealed!**

**Well, I shan't keep you all waiting. Please review and thanks to all those that have so far! Yoo Hoo! Almost 300 reviews! **

**Later Days...**

**DW**


	30. Second Son of Prophecy

**Hey. There was some confusion with the prophecy. I apologize. It made sense to me, but that may have been because I was the one who wrote it. I'll try to clear it up in this chapter, if not, I'll explain it in detail at the end for those who I didn't write back to and explain it to them. Sorry, and read on!**

**Also, this chapter dedicated to Tylewin who was the 300th reviewer!**

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

**Chapter 30 – **

**The Second Son of Prophecy**

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

The sun was just breaking over the top of the mountains, casting the landscape in a gentle wash of rose light that lay reflected on the crystal waters of the Great Lake. A crisp, cool breeze rustled through the grass and the branches of the tall oak. It blew ripples along the surface of the water; they ran together before breaking apart then finally disappearing, leaving the surface of the lake blank. The morning had taken a long time to come this day, forcing the birds to hold their calls until the first light scattered across the land. Their melodious tunes now carried on the wind, promising better times and happy thoughts. But no amount of singing would stop the heartache of the man sitting in the shade of the oak tree.

Red light, broken by the tree's boughs, lay in scattered fragments about his sullen body. It was held stiffly and erect, as if even a small amount of ease would make it all come tumbling down. His face, spotted with scarlet light, stared forward. Dark hair hung lankly about his head, each strand drooping as if weighed dragged down by an intense weight. A mouth was set in a straight line, the lip corners tilted downwards in an expressionless streak. His brow was lightly creased, set in a faint line that drew darkness to his eyes. His gaze was set on some indiscernible spot above the waters of the lake, his emerald eyes dull, reflecting the crimson light of the sun.

His thoughts were not on the newly created morning, or the soft tune that rang around him from the birds. Nor were they on the rippling surface of the Great Lake, or the majestic castle sitting atop the hill behind him. His thoughts, so numerous and jumbled in his mind, were on one thing – one person_. No, _he thought with a sickening jolt of his stomach. _Two people._

It had been ten days since Ginny was taken. Ten days since Harry discovered the lock for his key. And ten days since he realized that he was to be a father. _A father. _He was going to have a son.

The words of the prophecy rang through his mind, fluttering like a ribbon caught in the wind. It was connected to his first prophecy, speaking of the 'one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord'. He said that the 'one' would have a son, to a woman who was the 'last and only in a line of fire'. That was Ginny; she was the last child and the only girl in the Weasley family. And they each had orange hair that glittered in the light as if it was aflame.

It all made sense.

He would have a son who was the heir to Godric Gryffindor, or to the 'mighty lion'. Was it merely coincidence that Harry was the one to pull Gryffindor's Sword from the sorting hat when he was only twelve years old? And was it only coincidence that he would use that sword to defeat the Dark Lord for the last time? He did not think so. It was all too closely related. It was all connected.

Like Ginny being kidnapped when she was pregnant with the Boy-Who-Lived's son and heir of Godric Gryffindor. Was it that she was kidnapped _because _she was pregnant? Or was that another coincidence?

Besides, if she _was _pregnant, who would know? Harry sure hadn't. Then who else could have found out that he would be a father before him? How could the new Dark Lord have found out? Were his spies that numerous and out-reaching that Ginny herself would tell them of her secret? It was all too confusing and painful. Ginny and their unborn son were gone, taken by a mysterious Dark Lord, who didn't even have a name.

No one even knew if she was still alive.

Harry blinked away a tear that had been building in the corner of his eye. It dribbled down his cheek, picking up the rosy light before dropping soundlessly to his clothed chest. It was all too much. They had no leads, no clues, as to where the Dark Lord's hideout was. A Death Eater meeting had not been called since the incident, and neither Snape nor Malfoy knew where the meetings were actually taken place. They said when the Dark Lord called he would redirect their apparation to his own specified destination. That way, he could not be betrayed by one of his own servants.

There had been nothing as to where Ginny had gone. That was one of the reasons Harry was out here now, on the grounds of his old school, just as the sun was rising. He needed someplace to think, where his mind wouldn't be distracted by others. And this was the place and time he had chosen. Hogwarts had always evoked strong emotions inside him, whether it was the magical air around the great castle, or the many times he had called it home. He just felt safer here, even though so much had happened on these grounds, he could think clearer about things no one else could understand.

This was the place he could be closer to Ginny, even though she was so far away.

**. . . - - - . . . **

Sounds and images rushed through her mind. Broken fragments of light – white, green, red – they blinded her. She gasped in pain, turned to her side, and coughed up blood onto the harsh cold stone of her cell. Time was lost in this place – this hard, merciless place – there was no way of knowing how long it had been since she had been brought here to wait out the dark moments of life when she was left alone. How she wished she could be left alone.

They would come for her, every night, to eat with the Dark Lord. He would invite her to dinner, to dine on delicious roast meals that wafted streams of moist air into her face. They smelt of rotting flesh and she would eat nothing. She would eat nothing until _he _came for her. She knew he would. He always did.

Each night she was taken to the upper levels of this house, where grand staircases sat in near ruin and the floors and walls were covered in green vine. She would be taken into a large room with a high, cracked ceiling that smelt of dust and dirt. She would be seated at a long, scratched wooden table, beside the head seat, which was reserved for the Dark Lord. Then he would come – carrying a sharp angular face with dark hair and eyes like ice, he would tell her stories about when he was younger. The stories were filled with death, isolation and pain.

It was on the fifth night that she discovered who he was and what he wanted.

But now, she was left in her small room at the bottom of the old house. It had no carpet and no floorboards. She was left to sit on the cold, bare stone, where moss and weeds were sprouting up from the earth. A metal door was her guard, standing tall and erect, with a slot at the bottom where water was inserted. All she had for warmth were the clothes she had been wearing in the hospital that day, and a thin musty blanket that was full of holes. That sat, discarded, in the corner.

She would use nothing they gave her.

She sighed painfully, leaning against the far war. Her body was so sore from the many Cruciatus Curses that had been placed on it each time she spoke out of turn, or spoke ill of the 'master'. Her clothes were torn and bloody, with her exposed flesh scratched and smeared with grime and blood. Her hair hung in tangled curls around her head, untamed like the vines climbing the walls. Through the thin material of her shirt, she rubbed the small mound on her stomach, wondering, wishing – _hoping _– that the child was still alive.

It had been a little over three months since she had discovered her pregnancy. Her morning sickness had been late, coming at the same time that her father had fallen ill. It was by some luck of the stars that she was able to tell everyone that she had gotten the same sickness as her father. None suspected otherwise. She felt incredibly bad for not telling Harry. He would want to know that he would be a father, but she wasn't sure if a child would be welcome in a world once again torn by war. She knew everyone would want her to have the baby, knowing it would be a spot of light in a grey washed time. But, she hadn't wanted to tell anyone lest something happened.

Something like this.

She had known that there was another Dark Lord out there who was intent on taking Harry down. And he would do anything to make sure that he had the Boy-Who-Lived where he wanted him. With Ginny being pregnant, if she had told anyone and word got out that the great Harry Potter would soon he a father, it would mean that the news would be taken to the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. She would be targeted.

It wasn't her own life she had been worried about; it was the child growing in her womb. And it was Harry. She knew that if she was taken, Harry would do anything – _anything _– to get her back. He would even give up his own life for hers, and that was a sacrifice she wasn't going to let him make. He would come; it was only a matter of time. It wasn't like Harry to give up. Never give up, he had told her years ago, even if the world is falling, never give up. Never.

And she wouldn't. She wouldn't let them break her. She wouldn't bow down to the monsters that terrorized innocent people. She wouldn't let them destroy the one perfect thing that she and Harry had created: their child. She wished upon the brightest stars in the universe, upon all the heroes who died in the first and second wars, she wished that their baby was okay.

It had only been four short months; soon it would be five, since she and Harry had made love. Made life.

Her hand rested on her stomach, her fingers scratched and bleeding, and the other hand soon joined it. She could hear her heartbeat in her chest, and she suddenly found herself short of breath. "I will save you, don't worry my little one. Daddy will be here soon," her voice was hoarse from screaming, but it still carried through the stone room on gentle wisps of air.

"How sweet, the muggle lover thinks her knight in shining armour will come to the rescue!" a disdainful voice sneered. Ginny's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed at the wasted woman standing in the doorway. Her once handsome face was gaunt and scarred, with clothes hanging off a skeletal frame. Dark hair was tied at the back of her head, the roots stained grey. Bellatrix Lestrange wore a savage expression on her haunted face.

"What do you want, hag?" Ginny spat, standing even though pain shot through her body at the sudden movement. Bellatrix laughed a laugh that lacked real amusement.

"Ahh, still got fire, but that will soon be gone, just like the little mudblood in your womb," she said mockingly, laughing when Ginny's face dropped and a hand landed on her stomach. Ginny swallowed the fear rising in her body and glared at the retched woman.

"What do you want?" she asked again, louder this time. And for good measure, she added, "bitch." The hollow laughter stopped, leaving the stone room thick with anxious silence. The two women stared at one another, both their eyes spilling with anger and scorn. Finally, Lestrange's eyes flashed and a sinister smile turned at the corner of her lips.

"What I want and what my master wants are two completely different things," she said slowly, taking a step forward. Ginny fought the temptation to back up against the wall. Instead, she straightened her back, ignoring the pain that accompanied it.

"And what do _you _want?" Ginny hissed as Bellatrix stalked forward.

"I want you, Potter and your foul child dead. I want all your friends dead, all your family dead, I want anyone who has ever spoken to you dead. Now." Lestrange said, stopping a mere inch from Ginny's face. Putrid air billowed from the Death Eaters parted lips, drifting across Ginny's nose; she swallowed the vomit making its way up her throat.

"How is that different from what your _master _wants?"

A dark look appeared in Lestrange's eyes. "My master wants Potter to suffer like he suffered. He wants him to watch you and your disgusting unborn offspring die a painful death. He wants Potter to be tortured endlessly, but not to insanity, because he still wants him to be with it enough to watch and understand why all the people he has ever known and loved, die before his eyes." Ginny felt anger rise in her throat, and it was only because of the mound on her stomach that she kept it under control.

"And why don't you want that?"

"Oh, I do, so much. But you have no idea how much little Harry irritates me. All I wish to see is Potter floating ass up in a pool of belladonna." Bellatrix grinned savagely, and before she could act, Ginny was pinned against the hard wall of her cell, with something sharp poking into her abdomen. Bellatrix was still a mere inch from her face, her fathomless eyes like two pools of onyx, spiralling down to oblivion. Ginny gasped as the poke in her stomach sharpened, and a tear dropped from her eye.

"Please –" she gasped, "– don't."

"But I so want to," Lestrange said softy, and the poke got harder. Ginny felt it pierce her skin and she let out a strangled sob. "Don't cry, weasel girl, your baby will survive this day. But that's not what I can say for when your hero gets here. Goodbye for now." With that, the pain left her middle, and Bellatrix stepped back. A silver dagger sparkled in her hand as she walked backwards towards the exit, smiling all the way. When the metal door grinded shut, and she was sure Bellatrix wasn't coming back, Ginny slid down the wall in a fit of silent tears.

**. . . - - - . . . **

"Has there been any news?" asked a sullen Ron, his once shining face shrouded in sorrow and almost complete failure. The room was full of murmuring Order Members, all their faces delicately masked with half-shadow; if they weren't, hopelessness would be common on all. Harry sat in a corner, just listening, watching, as every few seconds, a pair of uncertain eyes would glance his way.

They all had given up, he could tell. They all thought it was pointless to keep looking, that Ginny was dead and there was nothing they could do. Only the younger Weasley boys, Harry, and Hermione were still carrying the small piece of hope that she was still alive. Each said that they would know if she was gone. They would feel something leave them inside, like a light flicking off.

And that light was still shining bright in each of them, and they knew that she was still alive.

Harry could see Luna sitting on a far cupboard, her blue eyes shining in a thoughtful way as she gazed unwavering at him as he sat in the shadows. She smiled faintly – Harry didn't have the energy to smile back. He didn't have the will. Fred and George were arguing with Bill at the other side of the room; their identical faces were shining in identical expressions of rage, as their older brother merely shook his head resignedly, his head bowed. Molly was absent, more than likely at the bedside of her husband, who was still hospitalized in St Mungo's. Charlie had left barely an hour ago, everything getting too much for the man. Tonks and Remus were talking out of ear shot half-way down the table, their eyes glancing at Harry every few seconds, as if making sure he was still there.

He was still there, but not for long. He didn't understand how they all could just give up when Ginny was still out there. They were just half-heartedly making plans now, their voices giving away how they really felt. Minerva McGonagall wouldn't stop crying; every word she spoke was broken by a sob. Mundungus Fletcher had drowned himself in a goblet of red, steaming liquid, and he was now passed out on the table, on top of his barely-started search plans.

Neville Longbottom was sitting on the stairs leading up to the floor above, his fingers gently touching his chin, as he stared blankly at the cracked stone floor. He was another who did not believe Ginny was dead. He said he somehow knew she was still alive, that he could sense that she was out there somewhere, hurt, but alive. Harry was touched by his semi-comforting words, but they lacked the support he needed.

It was too much. It had been so long since Ginny had been taken, and he knew that in any normal sense she would be dead, but for some reason, he knew she was alive. He put a hand inside his jacket, pulling it back out with a crinkled piece of paper in it. He straightened it out and gazed at the smiling faces of his friends and family, and at the burnt hole where his head once was. He turned the photograph over and stared at the black curly writing with a creased brow.

_**Potter,**_

_**Guess who I have? Find her if you can.**_

_Find her if you can._

Who would say those words if they were just going to kill the person anyway? It was as if this new Dark Lord _wanted _Harry to look for her. It was as if he was daring him to go looking for her. But why? Did he want Harry that badly that he kidnapped Ginny to use as bait?

_Well it's working,_ Harry thought grimly. _I will find Ginny, and when I do, I will kill whoever took her._

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked softly as she slipped into a seat at his side. He looked over at her pale, drawn face, and he let his head drop.

"I wish I could say yes, but how could I when Ginny is out there somewhere," he fought the urge to say, _out there somewhere with our child, _but he didn't think it would go down too well. He felt Hermione take his hand, so he squeezed it.

"We will find her, Harry; we won't stop looking until we do." Her words, spoken to comfort, only fuelled the anger that resided in his heart. He looked up furiously, glaring around at the heroes he _thought_ were the bravest, the strongest, there ever was. All he saw were a bunch of resigned people, having given up when nothing had gone right. He didn't understand _why _they weren't doing more to search for his girlfriend – his love.

"Why?" he said softly, looking to Hermione, even though he didn't think she would have known what he meant. But, by some miracle of Merlin, she did.

"They're scared and confused," she admitted sadly. "They still remember the second war, how so many people were taken by the Death Eaters. Parties were sent out to get them back, and only a few returned. That was how it was done back then. Someone was kidnapped; others went searching for them, only to be caught in a trap and be killed. That's what they think is happening now; so do I." she said the last part so softly that Harry thought he had mistaken her.

"What?" he said with an open mouth.

"I think the Dark Lord took Ginny so you would go looking for her. He wants you dead, Harry, and I wouldn't put it past him to make a trail of dead bodies just so you would follow them to him," Hermione said seriously. Harry was too exhausted and too miserable to tell her that he disagreed, instead, he nodded gloomily.

"I figured that out a while ago," he said softly, passing her the crinkled photograph. She took it soundlessly with a shaking hand, and the two sat in uncomfortable silence while others talked uselessly around them.

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Hey.**

**Another chapter gone. It was going to be longer but I thought that ending was alright. The next one will have some more Ginny-perspective, Harry-perspective, maybe Snape-perspective, or even Malfoy-Perspective. I'm not sure yet. I'll think of it when I get there. **

**Thanks to those that reviewed and please continue to do so!**


	31. Watching Shadows in the Dark

…**---…---…---…---…**

_The darkness is playing in the night  
__The shadows are dancing around  
__I'm in the middle - alone  
__Listening to the cold singing  
__A tune that chills to the bone  
_

_I'm waiting - have been for a long time  
__Hear a noise - the dinner chime  
__Save me from the demons  
__Save me from the dark  
__I need you here - I'm waiting  
__Please bring that tiny spark  
_

_I'm waiting  
__For you - I'm waiting  
__For you to come and save me  
__And take me home tonight  
__I'm waiting  
__For you and the light  
__It is so dark - so dark I can't see  
__Where are you?  
__I'm waiting - come save me  
_

_I'm waiting  
__My hero - come take me home  
__I don't like it here in the dark  
__I'm waiting - I don't want to be alone  
_

_The darkness is playing a dangerous game  
__And the shadows want me to dance  
__Dance to the song of the cold  
__I'm waiting - this is your last chance  
__Before I sink into the ache of a broken heart  
__And play dark's dangerous art  
_

_I'm waiting  
__Come get me now  
__Don't ask how  
__Just come for me  
__I'm waiting  
__Come closer - you will see  
__I'm waiting  
__In that dark  
__I'm waiting  
__I'm waiting_

_**I'm Waiting – DW (Me!)**_

…**---…---…---…---…**

**Chapter 31 – **

**Watching Shadows in the Dark**

…**---…---…---…---…**

The night was opening up into a deep roan; the salt and pepper stars twinkled down. Clueless. The damp grass crunched beneath his feet as he stalked through the dark, his shadow stretching across the lawn in a mock imitation of himself. He wrapped the cloak tighter around his thin body, attempting to keep out the cool air that lingered about his body. His feet left the grass, stepping onto the hard concrete of a London footpath. His footsteps reverberated in the dark, matching the steady rhythm of his heart as it thumped in his chest. The concrete was cracked in places, with tufts of grass poking through, and a silly tune rang through his mind that he had heard immature muggles singing earlier that day.

'_Don't step on a crack, or you'll break your mother's back'._ As he walked, he stepped squarely on a lopsided piece of stone that had been split down the middle. A grim smile slid across his lips. _Too bad my mother is already dead, _he thought darkly as he continued his midnight mission. Night, the perfect time. There was nobody to watch him, nobody to judge the things he did or the thoughts that entered his head. There was nobody, only himself. Perfect.

But tonight was different. Over the last few weeks since Ginny Weasley had been taken, there had been no call from the Dark Lord. There had been no summons for his Death Eaters. There had been nothing but a lingering sense of dread that something was about to happen. It made a thick, sickly slime settle at the bottom of his stomach that did not equal anything good.

Why hadn't there been any Meetings called? Wouldn't the Dark Lord want to gloat about his capture of the Weasley girl? Wouldn't he want the world to know that he had outwitted the Order of the Phoenix _and _Harry Potter? He would want everybody to know. Then why hadn't he made any moves? _Why_ hadn't he called for the Death Eaters?

A low growl began in his throat and he hissed into the night. So many questions and no answers. None. Why didn't he know? He was _meant _to know. That was his job. As spy, he was meant to gather important information that only he was privileged to and relay it to the Order. That had always been the way. So why was he headed to a Phoenix Meeting when he didn't have any facts to give them?

He turned at a corner that had a slanting and spotted street sign hanging from a post. _Grimmauld Place_. Back to the home of his old, long-dead enemy. The last and only place he wanted to go. As he walked down the deserted street, with his feet tapping on the cracked road and a biting wind teasing the end of his robes, Severus Snape sighed.

War was upon them, harder and bolder than ever before. People were beginning to panic as they woke up each morning with more news of death and destruction. They were afraid that it was indeed Voldemort back from the dead, seeking revenge on those that helped his downfall in the First and Second Wars. News had gotten out of Ginny Weasley's capture, and that she was with Harry Potter. For everyone new that Harry Potter was the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and defeater of You-Know-Who. Why would a new Dark Lord target Harry Potter and his loved ones if it was not Voldemort himself? Nearly all know of, or had heard about, the prophecy tying the two of them together. Everyone had thought the prophecy was over, since Voldemort had been destroyed.

Rumours had started that the prophecy had not been fulfilled – that Voldemort was, indeed, still alive. "Stupid, flaming morons…" Severus Snape cursed as he stalked even quicker down the street. Voldemort was _not_ alive. Nor would he ever again _be _alive. It was not possible. There was no way in all the seven hells that he could come back to life. There was no way. It was impossible.

He desperately _hoped _that it was not possible. It was not the ridiculousness of the rumours that made him stand on edge. It was the indecisiveness of the rumours that frightened him.

In all matter of speech, he was scared.

He was scared that Voldemort was still alive; that the rumours floating around were true. If they were, it would mean that his nightmares were to come alive. His life, all that he fought to stop, would come back. What were the chances that Harry Potter could stop him again? He had done it twice already, would he be three times lucky?

_Don't be stupid, Voldemort is no more,_ he thought savagely, although even in his minds voice, he could hear the quaver of fear. Finally, he reached the part in the walls, and as he watched, another house pushed it's way between them. The steps, now worn and spotted with age, were still hard beneath his feet as he ascended. The front door stood in front of him, the paint cracked and peeling, and the serpentine knocker now blackened with grime. He stood staring at it for the longest time, listening to the whispers of the wind behind him and knowing the moon was above him somewhere. Watching – forever watching.

He knocked twice and waited with a writhing heart.

…**---…---…---…---…**

A knock resounded through the ancient house. Remus offered to go answer it, and when no one bothered respond, he left with a bowed head. The kitchen was mostly deserted, containing only a few remaining Order Members. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at one side of the table, staring at scattered pieces of parchment with notes scrawled on them in black ink. Opposite them were Fred and George, as well as Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Each of them was talking in quiet tones, pained eyes scanning the paper with troubled frowns, and tired voices bordering defeat. They were the last of the last, the remaining ones who had not given up. They still carried the small piece of hope that Ginny was alive and fine. That they would get her back.

But, even their own voices were starting to sound trounced. "Can you think of any more places that he could be keeping her?" Hermione asked tiredly, picking up a piece of parchment that had many names crossed out with new ones written above them. Harry ran a hand through his oily hair, staring unfocused at his friend.

"Not really…"

"Well, we've got Azkaban –" she started.

"I've checked there and there isn't any sign of secret lairs or Dark Lord Chambers," Ron said drearily as Hermione crossed something out on her parchment.

"Well, we've checked the Dark Forests in France, Russia and Britain, and there haven't been any signs of human life apart from the odd hunter. We've been keeping in touch with the French and Russian Ministry, who are having Aurors search any suspicious locations that may be a hide-out for Death Eaters. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are under constant surveillance, for both protection and interrogation. Some older students in Durmstrang have been suspected of Death Eater activity and are tabbed constantly. If anything happens in other countries, we will know," Hermione stated with a nod, watching Harry strain a smile. Footsteps on the stairs drew their attention and they watched as Remus returned, followed by Severus Snape. The old potion's master paused at the bottom of the stairs, his dark eyes scanning the room with sudden fury.

"I had reason to believe, that when I was called, it would be for an Order Meeting," Snape said, raising a lip. Harry stood and nodded quickly.

"This is a meeting; I called you," he said as Ron's eyes flashed at him in confusion and suspicion. Snape narrowed his eyelids and glared at Harry.

"And why did you call me, when this is, obviously, not a meeting?"

"It is a meeting; we are the last members who haven't given up," Harry said challengingly, as Snape's eyes clouded in sudden alarm.

"The last?" he said in barely a whisper.

Harry nodded sternly. "Everyone else has given up."

"And you haven't?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry stood his ground and looked directly into his ex-professor's fathomless eyes.

"No. And I won't," he said, and even as he heard it, Severus believed him. _Damn the boy's defiance. _"But, the question is, will _you_?" Harry saw Snape's gaze falter and his normally emotionless face flashed in a brief, unknown emotion.

"Have I ever?" he said as venomously as he could. A steely glint appeared in Harry's eyes, that Severus knew all-to-well.

"Good," Harry said. "Because we need your help."

…**---…---…---…---…**

The stone was cold against her aching back; it relieved some of the pain that plagued her almost broken body. She wished she could just give up, close her eyes, and drift into the land of slumber. Once there, she could forget about everything – war, the Dark Lord, Harry…

She didn't know how long she had been here – days, weeks, years – all she knew was that Harry would come. She knew he would. He always did. He would come and save her by defeating the Dark Lord like he had done Voldemort. He would come to the rescue. Harry. Her Harry. Her hero.

Her head snapped up as low thumps vibrated through the floor. Someone was coming. She backed up against the wall, pulling herself to her feet, grinding her teeth through the pain. Her hand rested on her tender stomach which had expanded even more since she had been here. Her clothes hung from her body in tatted rags, barely covering her flesh or providing the warmth she so desperately needed. As the footsteps approached her door, she placed her head higher, steeling herself for the person bound to come through the door. _Please let it be Harry, _she thought frantically. _Please let it be Harry…_

It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

And she had brought company.

"Hello, Gin-Gin, how are you?" the wasted woman asked with no amount of sincerity in her rough voice. Ginny snarled at her in response. Bellatrix laughed. "Oh, I see, the same as yesterday, that's good," she said cheerfully, her dark eyes glinting in humour. "Well, you know the drill, up and at 'em!" Ginny stood still, glaring defiantly at the woman and man who had come to escort her to the 'master'. Lestrange sighed. "If you don't play nice, you won't play at all."

"Let's just get her and go," the surly man in the doorway said with a note of anticipation in his voice. Ginny locked eyes with his through the mask he was wearing, knowing those muddy-brown orbs from her school days.

"Crabbe," she spat in distaste. "What? Don't want to disappoint you _master_?" In three quick strides, Vincent Crabbe had scaled the floor and hit her hard across the face. The power of the hit pushed her to the ground, where she spat up the blood that had entered her mouth. Ginny looked up as Bellatrix laughed, patting Crabbe on the back as she would do a loyal dog.

"Maybe you should learn to keep such remarks to yourself, and then we wouldn't be tempted to aim a little lower next time," Lestrange said, giving Ginny's stomach a suggestive look. Ginny scrambled to her feet, backing away to the wall with an animalistic growl. Lestrange smiled, playing with a wand in her long, scarred fingers. Her nails, once preened in perfect condition, were now chipped, stained and some were even missing. The wand was pointed at her with a quick flick. "Care to join the master for dinner?" Bellatrix asked casually, inspecting the fingernails on her free hand.

"I would rather die," Ginny snarled savagely.

"Oh, that's good news, because he would like you to join him for dinner!" she said and before Ginny could react, Bellatrix continued with, "_Imperio!_" Ginny was led from the stone room, down a stone corridor bordered with spiky vines, and up a staircase that was set at a sharp angle. Scarlet light broke through a roofed window as they reached the higher levels, where Death Eaters patrolled regularly. Ginny, under the control of Bellatrix, was unable to look out the windows for any visible sign of where they were. Her eyes, however, strayed to the top of the staircase that led to the floor above, where a small man was standing nervously, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the end of his shirt. As they ascended the stairs, Ginny shot daggers at the rat of a man, watching in triumph as the wizard quivered. Peter Pettigrew turned and walked quickly down the hall, more than likely to report to his master that Ginny was on her way.

Bellatrix shoved her wand into Ginny' back, demanding her to keep moving. She was trying to fight the Imperius Curse remembering what Harry had said about it. **_Walk forward, _**a voice told her. _No, _she told it back, demanding her feet to stop. It didn't work, so she was taken down the hallway, following a well trod path through the dust, dirt and vines to a pair of double-doors at the end of the hall. Ginny was dreading going through those doors – the same doors she went through each night to eat dinner with the Dark Lord. But no matter how hard she fought the curse controlling her body, she was unable to break through it as she was carried to the doors and through them.

The chamber beyond was vast but only a shadow of its former glory. The floor was a rich cherry wood, cleaned to a shine apart from its share of deep scratches. The ceiling was high, painted with fading pictures of naked angels and flowers, arranged in a peaceful circle around a dusty chandelier in the centre of the ceiling; cobwebs hung from it. In the middle of the room was a long, table with matching high backed chairs that were pillowed with deep green and silver cushions. Upon the table were a large assortment of different foods, from roast meats and vegetables, to soups and bread, fruit and salads. Ginny was led to the seat beside the head of the table and directed to sit down. Once she was seated, Lestrange removed the curse, giving Ginny a broad smile that showed off her yellowing teeth.

"Welcome, my dear," an aristocratic voice announced as the host entered the room from a side chamber. Ginny closed her eyes, wishing she didn't have to look at him. His face brought bad memories from when she was young. There were footsteps; she wasn't sure if it was another Death Eater or him. "Won't you look at me, sweet?" His voice, so haunted, sounded in her ear. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and she swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat.

"Not if I can help it," she retorted, turning her head away from his, her eyes still shut. She could hear his soft chuckle as his walked around her to his seat at the head of the table, and the soft crunch of the cushion as he sat down.

"Why not?" he asked after a while.

"You know why not," Ginny said savagely.

"Face me – look at me," he said and Ginny felt invisible hands grasp her chin, turning it to where the Dark Lord was sitting. She kept her eyes closed; fighting the fingers that tried to prise them open. But there was no fighting that which was not there. Her eyelids were pulled open and she was forced to stare at the Dark Lord – the man she hated so.

He smiled at her, showing off sparkling white teeth. His skin, so fair, was pulled over high cheekbones which gave him an arrogance that the Malfoy's were so well known for. He looked at her with icy blue eyes that cut into her unprotected mind like swords.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he said smoothly, lowering his hand which had directed the actions of moving her face. She glared at him, still held by invisible bonds and forced to look at him with a hateful gaze.

"No, it wasn't, though why anyone would want to look at you is beyond me," she answered fiercely. She was immediately hit across the face by Bellatrix who had been standing guard behind her. Ginny gasped, raising a hand to her lip which had split. Bellatrix was about to hit her again when the Dark Lord raised a hand to stop her.

"No, Bella, our guest does not require a physical hand to teach her lessons. But a mental caress, however, should do the trick," the man said with a smirk and deathly, dancing eyes. Ginny gulped, knowing what was to come. She steeled herself for the alien hands that reached into her mind, playing with her thoughts, emotions, memories…

**.-.-.**

_She was at Harry's party. She laughed at something Fred had just said, looking around the crowd, searching for one man in particular…_

_She was lying on her bed, in Harry's arms, staring into the emerald eyes she loved so much. His hands played with her hair, rough fingertips stroking the back of her neck and shoulders. She snuggled closer to his chest, enjoying the feel of her bare skin on his. "I love you," Harry said softly, kissing the top of her head. She smiled._

"_I love you too," she answered, looking up into his face. Harry grinned and captured her lips with his. The kiss, sweet at first, deepened into something more. Ginny grinned into the kiss, wrapping her hands around his shoulders as his went around her waist. It felt so right, but then, something felt different. As the kiss grew fiercer, stronger, Ginny pulled away, her lips sore and bruised. She looked up into the face of her Harry only to find it wasn't him – dark hair, blue eyes and a sadistic smile._

"_You!" she stammered, trying to pull away. But strong arms held her, pulling her into his body. She tried to fight him but it was no use. He looked down at her and smirked._

"_What? Don't you love me anymore?" he asked simply, stroking her hair._

"_I never loved you! Where's Harry?" she screamed, desperate now to escape from the Dark Lords clutches, to go back to Harry._

"_Oh, you mean him?" the man asked, moving his head so Ginny could see what lie beside them on the bed. It was Harry – her Harry. Green eyes wide and blank, staring at a distant spot. Face still and framed in delicate shock. And a small dribble of blood ran from the corner of his mouth…_

**.-.-.**

Alien hands were removed from her head and she was left dirty, violated and in tears. "Does it hurt, sweet Ginny?" a voice asked mere inches from her ears. She pulled away, breaking the ties holding her head and covered her face with her hands. Heart-broken sobs struggled for released, but she held them in, swallowing the painful lump that had risen. The tears kept falling, mingling with her scarlet locks, as she silently begged for escape.

…**---…---…---…---…**

**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Thanks to Yan'weh for Beta-ing.**

**Hey people, I'm back from my holiday!**

**I wrote all this today! It was meant to be longer, with another Harry-perspective at the end, but I thought that was a better ending. The next one will have more search plans, what Harry wants with Snape, and maybe even the location of the Dark Lord's hide-out. **

**There were a couple more clues onto who the new Dark Lord is. And I can give you this clue – the Dark Lord is someone new. It isn't an older character that wants revenge or some sort of other thing. But, this person didn't just pop up from nowhere, wanting to kill Harry. There is a reason and a connection.**

**Well, thanks for the reviews everyone! They make my day complete! Please review again using that little button down there!**

**Oh, and about the song-poem-thing at the start. I wrote it (YAY) and it is the first of a three part trilogy-song-poem-thing. (Eh). This one is called I'm Waiting. The second one for the next chapter is I Will Find You. And the last one, which I have not written is Almost There. I was bored and thought I'd write them today, well, actually, I had written I Will Find You for this chapter but when I finished this chapter, I went, 'no, it doesn't work for this one.' So I wrote I'm Waiting.**

**I hope you liked it!**

**Later Days…**

**DW**


	32. Back and Burning Black

**Well, apparently we aren't allowed to use any song lyrics that aren't ours anymore. Don't ask me why. So I've had to go through and delete all the song lyrics that aren't mine, that have been accompanying my chapters. Even though they gave the chapters more meaning and emotion. I'm thinking about starting up a Yahoo Group for my fics, but I'm not sure yet. I'll see how everything goes.**

…**---…---…---…---…**

_You have been gone so long  
__And I don't know where you are  
__I've searched – oh god I've searched so far  
__But I don't know where you are_

_In the night  
__The darkness is closing in  
__And the shadows – they mock me  
__They play with my thoughts  
__Twisting them around inside my head  
__So much pain – I wish I was dead_

_I will find you  
__Through the dark and endless cold  
__Over the pain and confusion and tears  
__I will find you  
__Through my many fears  
__I will find you_

_I have faced many monsters  
__Many enemies in my time  
__But it is this that scares me  
__This that seizes my heart  
__In icy talons – I can't see  
__My face, it's wet – I'm crying  
__And my soul is fading – I'm dying_

_I will find you  
__Even though my throat sears  
__My heart is pounding fiercely  
__And my eyes sting with salty tears  
__I will find you_

_Through the dark and endless cold  
__I will fight shadows in the night  
__Fighting on  
__Searching  
__For that single light  
__That burns inside your soul  
__I'm coming – that's my goal  
__I will find you  
__Through death itself  
__I will find you  
__Nothing will stop me  
__Not until I see...  
__Your face  
__My love – my life  
I__'m coming_

_I will find you  
__I will find you_

_**I Will Find You – DW**_

…**---…---…---…---…**

**Chapter 32 – **

**Back and Burning Black**

…**---…---…---…---…**

She had lost track of time. Of that, she was certain.

It had been so long since she had seen the ones she loved. Her mother – she wondered if she had given up the search. Her father – her breath caught at the thought of her dear father. The last she had seen of him, he had been lying upon his death bed, while Harry – her dearest Harry – gave him a potion of his and Hermione's creation. She had left the Hospital room, too caught up in emotion to even see straight. She had planned on going to the cafeteria, but as soon as she stepped away from the doorway, they had gotten her. Death Eaters.

And now … now she didn't know if her dear father was even alive.

"He will be fine, little one," Ginny said hoarsely, stroking the mound on her stomach. "Your Grandpa is just fine."

It had been over a month since she had been taken, or close to that amount of time. She had been eavesdropping on the conversations of the Death Eaters, trying to find out any piece of information that would be of use to her. She had found out that Puddlemere United had won the Championship against the Tornado's; their game had been set for December twentieth. She had been taken near the end of November, so that meant it was almost Christmas.

Her first Christmas without the ones she loved.

"Get up, Weasel, it's time for your walk." A gruff voice said from the other side of the steel door. It was unlocked and a pair of Death Eaters entered both wearing black robes and white masks. Ginny struggled to her feet, keeping a hand on the wall for support. Each day, she was allowed a bathroom break and an escape from the cell without having to see the Dark Lord. She walked out the door, following the back of one Death Eater while the other walked behind. Daylight splintered through the grimy windows on the first floor and she immediately scanned the room for any other guards; maybe she could fight off these two and get out through the door?

The answer to her silent question was an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach where her child was resting. She couldn't do that. She wouldn't risk the life of her unborn baby. They ascended the stairs but instead of turning right like they usually did, they turned left. "Where are we going?" Ginny asked immediately stopping.

"To the bathroom," the Death Eater in front grunted.

"Why aren't we going to the one we usually go to?" she asked quickly.

It's, ahh – occupied. Don't ask questions."

So she didn't, instead silently following the Death Eater to areas of the house she had not as yet seen. The place was quite large, though it was two floors but quite wide. Most of the windows had been boarded, either to keep people from looking in or people from looking out. The Death Eater led her to the far side of the house, where the carpet had been eaten away by unknown critters.

"Ten minutes," grunted the Death Eater, pushing open the door and allowing her entrance. Ginny shut and locked the door after her, letting go a sigh of relief as soon as she was alone. The bathroom was old and grimy, with the floor layered in dirt and fragments of tile and glass. A stained bathtub sat against one wall, with a cobwebby showerhead sagging from above; a spider quickly scuttled behind the holey curtain. Ginny stepped forward, wincing when a sharp of glass pierced through the thin bottom of her shoes. She walked up to the basin, staring into the cracked mirror above the sink. Glass was missing, most likely the same which was scattered about the floor. She wrapped her hand in her shirt, wiping away the spots covering the glass.

Her face was smudged with dirt and blood from cuts on her cheeks, and her hair was lank about her head. She did not care much for physical appearance in this place, but she could not stand feeling dirty. The water was cold against her battered fingers but she struggled to scrub away the grime which had accumulated over night. Her face was sore and it took much care and kindness to remove the dirt and blood. After drinking to her stomachs content, she turned the taps off, aware that her fingers were shaking from both cold and nervous energy.

They hadn't stopped shaking since she had arrived in this place.

She looked back into the mirror and into a face that did not look like the Ginny Weasley she previously was. Her face was thin and gaunt, with dark rings beneath a pair of hollow, bloodshot eyes. She did not get much sleep in this place and what sleep she did get was interrupted by haunting memories that had been twisted by the Dark Lord's mind into vicious representations of a nightmarish reality. Each time she awoke from those dreams, she had to remind herself that it was not real. That it had never happened. She repeated the same sentence over and over, squeezing her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth with the frantic beatings of her heart.

"Harry will come. Harry will come. Harry will come."

The words, well worn, were slowly starting to become meaningless and useless. She was beginning to doubt her own faith and hope that he would come to the rescue like he always had done. His 'hero complex' as Hermione had called it. His 'saving people thing'. But that was what he was. A hero. Her hero. She just wished he would come soon.

She did not know how much longer she could hold up.

"Five minutes," the gruff voice grunted from the other side of the door. Ginny turned away from the mirror, her motions sluggish and lacking the energy they once possessed. Her clothes were tatty and dirtied, but she would rather wear them then the clothes _He _offered her. Turning away from the mirror, she scanned the room again, feeling her heart skip when she spotted a partially boarded window that broken sunlight was peeking through. She hurried over to it, stepping into the bathtub to get closer. She wiped away the curtain of cobwebs that were covering the glass, leaning closer to squint past the boards.

She peeked through the glare of the morning sun and the splotchy glass of the windows; the Death Eaters must have led her around the house and back out the front, for she could vaguely see a large front lawn that was overgrown with grass and weeds. A wooden cabin sat down near the road, but inside the fence of the property; its windows was shattered and walls covered in vines. Down further was a small village, which seemed to sit in the shadow of the large house, looking up with faded rooves. The place did not seem familiar, though something inside her told her she knew where it was. An old thought, a missing memory. Something.

"Time's up!" a voice said loudly and the bathroom door was slammed open. The sudden noise startled her and she slipped on the plastic of the shower curtain, falling into the rusted tub with a heavy thump. She gasped, hands flying to her stomach as a sharp pain shot through it unbidden. The Death Eater stared down at her with cold black eyes with the white mask covering the face of her captor. He flung out an arm, clasping it painfully around her shoulder. With one hefty tug, she was pulled up and out of the bathtub. Her legs struggled to support her weight as she looked up into the cold, merciless eyes of the Death Eater.

"You're not allowed to look outside. You broke the rules. I'm taking you to him." A simple sentence. Such a simple sentence. Yet Ginny trembled at the meaning of those few words. He dragged her from the room, her feet sliding along the glass strewn floor, curling to find a pointless hold. The glass fragments winked innocently; the representation of her shattered hopes.

…**---…---…---…---…**

The glass orbs glowed around the room. Red, blue, green, yellow. They cast the room in a bright hue that did not match the mood. A large Christmas tree sat not far from the fire's crackling flames; a crystal angel twirled on the top of the tree. Dancing… dancing… dancing to unheard music. The room was empty apart from him. He sat in a chair, hands clasped on his knees and eyes strained forward. He stared into the fire, watching the golden flames lick the inside of the fireplace; curling around the logs like deathly fingers.

The room was decorated for Christmas. Baubles and streamers hung around the room, catching the light and reflecting brilliant colours. Cards sat on top of the mantle, as well as stockings which were draped down over the bricks. The room was warm and cosy, though bumps had risen along his skin.

He had not slept in days, too caught up in nightmares and dreams of endless screaming. He knew it was only his mind playing tricks on him, but the screaming sounded frighteningly like Ginny. But it couldn't be; he reminded himself whenever he awoke. It just couldn't.

It was almost Christmas. A time for celebration and games, laughter and good cheer. A time for present giving and spending time with friends and family. It was a time for love.

Without Ginny with them, how could anyone celebrate Christmas that year? No presents were under the tree; it was merely there to try to lift their spirits. It had been erected by Dobby, as had the decorations. He believed the house was too gloomy and even though the times were most dire, he said even this Christmas needed to be honoured.

For what, Harry did not know.

He had been sitting here for an endless amount of time. Ron had been with him not long before he left, head bowed, and eyes glazed with painful tears. Hermione had been with him for a while; she too left, mumbling something about needing time alone. So Harry was left by himself, with thoughts of a vacant holiday and how Ginny would be all alone at the one time of the year when none should have to be alone.

_She isn't alone. _Harry thought with a sinking heart and a grim, half-hearted attempt at a pained smile. _She's with our son._

_Our son. If he's still alive._

What were the chances of an unborn child surviving in the womb of its mother, who had been possibly tortured and starved? It was near impossible that the child would be alive, after all that had happened. If he had, he would be a miracle. A hero.

"My little hero," he murmured, staring into the dancing flames.

"What was that, Harry?" asked a familiar voice. Harry looked up to find Fred and George standing stooped in the doorway, their faces showing identical signs of grief and misery.

"Nothing," he answered, looking back to the fire. "How is Molly?" Fred shut the door as the two of them came forward, taking seats beside him in the Lounge Room.

"She's … coping," George said softly, he too, staring into the fire. "It's hard for her, you know? First Percy, now Ginny. I don't know how she would do if you or Hermione weren't here."

"I know," Harry said, giving George a faint smile. "How are you two?"

"We're…"

"…not so good." Fred finished with a grim shake of his head. "I just can't believe they've given up." He was talking about the Order, of course. "Some bunch of heroes they are. Bastards."

"They say that they've looked everywhere," George said angrily. "When in reality, _you've _looked everywhere. They just filled in the paperwork."

"I haven't looked everywhere," Harry said hoarsely. "There are so many places he could be keeping her, I just can't think of where she could be. I don't even know who this 'Dark Lord' is, and what he has against me. I mean, why does my scar hurt? It only hurt when Voldemort was around because we had a mental connection, forged when he attacked me when I was one. But now… it doesn't make any sense."

"What about Snape and Malfoy? They're our spies and they can't even do their jobs properly!" Fred said loudly. "I don't know why we still keep them around! For all we know they could be working for the other side, just saying there haven't been any meetings to send us off track!"

"No…" Harry said softly. "I believe that there haven't been any Meetings, even though I've never actually trusted Snape or Malfoy. I don't know… I think the Dark Lord is just testing out his allies, seeing how many are loyal and all that stuff. There will be a meeting soon, I'm sure of it. We just need to find out when and how we can get there."

…**---…---…---…---…**

The kitchen was cold and dark. It was empty apart from shadowy silhouettes of the long table and chairs; looming out of the dark like four-legged critters. A clock was ticking somewhere above him in the house, travelling down to the bottom level on dusty currents of wind. The kitchen smelt of burnt toast; Bill Weasley's attempt at making something for Potter to eat. He had been sitting up in the Lounge Room for hours. Thinking.

That was what he was doing in the silence of the kitchen, where he could not be disturbed. All other occupants of the house were either locked up in their rooms are out into the cool air of night, having had enough of the miserable atmosphere of the Black Manor. He was used to it, having survived the many lonely, agonising nights of his youth.

This was the kind of atmosphere he worked best in, as horrid as it sounded. But, due to unforseen circumstances, he was unable to do anything for the Order or for himself. The Dark Lord had not summoned him for over a month, when usually, Meetings had been conducted at least once a week. Something was happening. Something big. Something that was related to Ginny Weasley.

The girl had been taken almost two months ago, which meant the prospect of her still being alive was slim to nothing. If this new Dark Lord was anything like the last, which Severus very much suspected, the girl would be long since dead. Unless there was another, much greater, use for her.

Potter had been moping around for weeks, occasionally leaving to go on searches with his friends. They returned hours later in even worse moods and hopes than when they had left.

It was pointless, in his opinion. He knew that the Dark Lord was in a place where the likes of them would never find. It was well protected, by charms and curses, as well as ancient enchantments. From the few times he had been there, he had been unable to determine where the old house had been situated, and even his powerful Legiliumcy had been useless against the wards surrounding it.

Ginny Weasley was as good as dead if Potter didn't get to her soon.

But the question was, was that what the Dark Lord wanted? It seemed that way. Although for what reason?

Severus had spent many long nights trying to figure out that very problem. Why would another Dark Lord be after Harry Potter? Voldemort had had good reason to want him dead and that had been the prophecy. There wasn't another prophecy as far as Severus new, and two prophecies about the same person was just as unlikely as him dressing up in a penguin suit.

Or, in other words, was never going to happen.

Then what was the reasoning behind this new strong of events? Did the Potter boy just have a large invisible magnet glued to his head that attracted the worst kind of enemies? It would explain why the boy was always staring at the ground and moping around as if the whole world depended on him. It had, at one stage, but it was not as if they could not have survived without him, was it?

He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it. But he would rather die than openly admit that he was _glad _that Harry Potter saved them all. The he was glad that Harry Potter saved _him._

It was against all his moral and ethical standards. To admit that to Harry Potter and all his friends was practically suicide. They would forever mock him, tease him, and all round annoy him.

He stared out at the dark of the kitchen, sneering at nothing but the thought of admitting _that _to Harry Potter. He rubbed his arm, curling his lip at the foul taste that it brought to his mouth._ Him_, telling Harry Potter, that he was _thankful_ for his saving of the world. It was just wrong and a completely stupid idea.

"Thick brat," he growled under his breath, pushing up his sleeve to rub at his stinging wrist. "Thinks he's just _so _great." Of course, it was a complete lie. Harry Potter did not think that about himself and he never had. But it was easier to think that about James Potter's son than to admit the truth. And the truth was that Harry Potter was _not _like James Potter. He was more like Lily, his mother. The kindest, sweetest woman Severus had ever known. "Too bad she was muggle-born, though." He added thoughtfully, looking down at his wrist to scratch at it better. It had really started to sting and burn.

Unknowingly, he had been rubbing his left wrist. The _underside _of his left wrist. The Dark Mark of Voldemort was burning black … literally. He let out a gasp of shock and pain, springing backwards from the table and out of his chair; it clattered noisily to the stone floor. He clasped at his wrist with fear and anxiety. It was time. It took less than a minute for him to sprint up the stairs and through the house, running blindly for the door leading to the Lounge Room.

He stumbled through it, looking up to see a very startled Harry Potter staring at him from his spot opposite the fire. "I-its happened," Severus managed to splutter out, all dignity and honour leaving him with those simple words. The boy's face changed immediately and he was on his feet and before him in a fast few seconds.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Potter asked with a calm yet slightly shaky voice, his emerald eyes boring into his own. Severus was momentarily stunned by the sheer haunting enchantment of the eyes only one other had. Lily's eyes.

"I-I am," he said, swallowing the hard lump in his throat and straightening up. "Do you remember what to do?"

"Yes," Potter answered quickly.

"Good, I will send a sign for you to commence but only then, do you understand me?" he said sharply, pulling out his wand with a quick hand movement. In a flash, he had conjured a pair of black robes and a white skull mask. He could see the boys eyes linger on the mask before returning to his face.

"Yes, I understand." Severus was readying himself to go, feeling the pull of his mark strengthening, demanding him to answer its call. Potter's face seemed to be struggling to sort something out as a string of different emotions flashed across it in quick succession.

"When I signal, and only then." He said in way of a parting remark. His wand was mere centimetres from his blackened tattoo, and as soon as it touched, he would be transported to his master's side. He was seconds away from departing and he looked up, for the last time, at Potter's face, which seemed to have come to a decision.

"Be careful." The words, so small and simple triggered something inside Severus's heart. And just as his wand grazed the darkened mark on his arm, a picture of Albus Dumbledore appeared in his mind. Then, he was gone, leaving behind a broken young man who had seen far too many horrors, and a room decorated for celebration, but only received mourning.

…**---…---…---…---…**

**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Hey all!**

**No, I'm not dead, just trying to survive the cold that is plaguing us at the moment. Seriously, its bloody freezing!**

**Well, ahh, ah hum. Yes. **

**Sorry for the large wait, I didn't mean for it to be so long. I recently took a trip to Sydney, which is an hour and a half bus trip to the train station, then a twelve hour trip to the city. My god, for someone who has never been on a train before that time, I truly, seriously hate them! I will never ever ever ever go on a train again! I got no sleep! None at all! I was going to lie on the floor and try to sleep through the shaking floor. It was going well until about four in the morning, the patrolling guard came through and told me to get up and that the floor was not a bed.**

**Well, to say I was angry was an understatement. I had to wake my friend who had been sleeping on the double seats, suffer through her incoherent swearing at being woken, and sit for another three hours with her head on my shoulder, asleep.**

**Then, on the way back, I was sick on the train and then again on the bus, either from motion sickness or from witnessing my friend throw up in a freezer bag. Disgusting images people, I swear, I am never drinking a popper again!**

**shudders**

**Well, back to the story. Much more was to happen in this chapter, which didn't come out. I thought that was an appropriate ending. Unexpected, especially for me. But, it sets off the events for next chapter. That's right, Harry finds out where the Dark Lord is hiding and possibly, who he is. That is if you haven't figured it out already.**

**I thought it was quite obvious, as I have been dropping hints every now and then. I've been hinting in the conversations from Harry and Snape, with them trying to figure who the Dark Lord is themselves. Quite clever, if you ask me.**

**OK, I have rambled way too much, so I shall go and reread this chapter, pick up on any and all mistakes, then connect to the internet. There won't be that many chapters left of this story, so when this finishes, I will have more time to write my other stories.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter: **_Chapter 33 – The House of Vines._

**Thanks for the reviews, they rock my socks!**

**Later Days…**

**DW**


	33. The House of Vines

…**---…---…---…---…**

_The dark - it's fading  
__And the cold is warming up  
__I see a figure  
__Appearing through the dim  
__Is it you my hero?  
__Or is it - is it him?_

_I can feel I'm getting closer  
__The dark - I brush it away  
__I think it's you  
__I hope it's you  
__I wonder if it is - what will I say?_

_The figure is approaching  
__And my heart, it beats faster  
__My skin is prickling  
__From love or fear  
__I don't know  
__Is it you – you're almost here_

_I think it's you  
__From the way my heart is thumping  
__And my steps are slowing  
__My blood – it's quickly pumping  
__Through the dark, I see –  
__I see a figure  
__On the cold, cold ground  
__Is it you – my sweet  
__Is it you who I have found  
__If it is – I'm almost there_

_It is you  
__Through the fading dark  
__Your eyes – that emerald spark  
__I see you, standing there  
__Above me like an angel from God  
__I know it's you – you reach out a hand  
__I take it and together – we stand_

_It is you. I'm here  
__Your skin is cold – so cold  
__I pull you up from that ground  
__I see your face – your smile  
__I'm here now  
__I've just been gone a while  
__I'm sorry I didn't come sooner  
__But...  
__Without you...  
__I was lost  
__  
You're here  
__The last few days were bad – but now  
__Now you're here and your hand is warm  
__I was so cold and here you are  
__Your eyes – they sparkle at me  
__And I know – I see  
__You're here – you're mine  
__Everything is better  
__Everything will be fine_

'_**Here' by DW**_

…**---…---…---…---…**

**Chapter 33 – **

**The House of Vines**

…**---…---…---…---…**

Severus Snape appeared in the Meeting Chamber of the Dark Lord's 'servants'.

The other Death Eaters were already here, masked and robed, staring at the front of the room where a high throne was sitting against the wall. A man sat in it, smiling viciously, nose tilted up in that pureblooded way. Severus immediately stepped forward and kneeled, bowing his head; he was so sure the kneeling man beside him would be able to hear the frantic beating of his heart. When the room was free from the cracking noises of apparating Death Eaters, the Dark Lord spoke.

"Welcome," he said in a deep, silky voice. "Long time, no see." There was a ripple of movement as the masked wizards murmured their agreement. "Yes. I've been … occupied for a while now. I've actually had a house guest who felt so inclined to join us tonight. She's a little feisty, but apart from that, she is quite a catch. Bring her in!"

Severus chanced a glance up, feeling his blood freeze at the sight of a rugged and destroyed Ginny Weasley. He looked at her once attractive face, finding only pain and waste. She did not struggle as a pair of Death Eaters brought her in; instead, she glared furiously at the Dark Lord. _At least something hasn't changed,_ he thought with an inward smile, looking back down.

"Rise up, my loyal followers, and see what I have got to show you!" As one, the group of Death Eaters stood, looking to the front. An outbreak of murmuring spread through the chamber, as well as chuckling. Ginny Weasley swept a pair of haunted eyes over the crowd; glaring with such conviction that Snape had to award her on her strength. She was standing straight backed, but her arms rested awkwardly against her stomach. Severus narrowed his eyes, wondering what on earth the silly witch was hiding beneath her tattered shirt. As a Death Eater pushed her forward, a rip in her shirt gaped open, revealing a bloated stomach.

_I would've thought she would have been starved! Well, obviously not! _Snape thought indignantly, as his mind set on one conclusion. _Unless…_

"As you can see, my Death Eaters, I have the honour to announce our guest, the divine Ginevra Weasley. Bow won't you?" the Dark Lord asked, turning to Ginny. She merely glared at him. "Oh, very well." A wand was pulled and with a slight tilting of the tip, she was forced to dip into a low hunch. "That wasn't so bad, was it?' he asked as Ginny straightened. She spat blood at his feet.

"Go back to hell, you son of a bitch!" she snarled as one of her captors slapped her across the face.

"Watch your mouth, wretch!" a woman's voice hissed from behind the mask. Severus's stomach knotted at the sound of Bellatrix Lestrange,

"Hush now, Bella, she hasn't been properly trained yet," the Dark Lord said in a paternal voice. "We have plenty of time for that, don't forget."

"Master," a Death Eater hissed, stepping forward to kneel at his feet. "I had heard of her kidnapping. Potter and his Order have been searching for her for a while now, and they have not even had a sniff of where she was. I knew it must have been you who had taken her. Only you could thwart the Order of the Phoenix." The Dark Lord grinned, showing off a set of perfect white teeth.

"You flatter me, Draco, but even you must know that without Albus Dumbledore leading them, the Order of the Phoenix is just a group of scared Muggle-Lovers with a silly little boy leading them." The Dark Lord said as Draco Malfoy scuttled back into the ranks of the Death Eaters. Severus smiled behind his mask, proud to have been the one to train Draco into becoming one of the best spies. The boy was manipulative and able to worm his way into even the toughest of hearts. Severus knew that better than anyone did; Draco had done it to him.

"Yes, I have known about Potter's searches for his dear girlfriend. I have known about all the places he has been to. It is funny he hasn't figured it out yet, I thought it would be rather obvious that I would be here. The boy must be as daft as they all said him to be," the Dark Lord laughed, throwing his head back and allowing his dark hair to fan out from his face. "But he will be here soon – he is getting closer. And when he does…" The Dark Lord looked over to Ginny who had grown even paler. "I shall make him watch as I kill his dear Ginny … and their unborn son."

There was a thick silence as all stared at the bump on Ginny Weasley's stomach as she shrunk back, one single tear escaping down her cheek to be lost in her knotted hair. Severus Snape had grown cold, his entire body tensing as sudden realisation hit him. Potter had been almost psychotic in his search for Weasley; a little _too_ desperate. Severus understood how the boy felt; having lost another one he loved. But he was so distraught; as if he didn't get Weasley back … all would be lost.

To know that Harry Potter would have a son was almost as horrible as it had been to know that James Potter would have a son.

But, to know that Potter's son was now residing in the womb of a tortured and haunted Ginny Weasley … he felt pity for him. _How long has he known? _Severus thought with a heavy heart. _How long has he known that not only was his girlfriend taken, but his unborn child?_ A picture of Harry Potter appeared in his vision – sitting in the Lounge Room, staring at the fire as if he knew the world was about to end. _He has known since the beginning…_

"My Loyal Servants," the Dark Lord said loudly, drawing Snape's attention to him once more. "In order to prepare for the visit of Mr Potter, I wish to have this place cleaned up a little. Please don't forget to keep an eye out for our visitor, and report to me if you see anything – how you say – out of the ordinary." Having been dismissed, the Death Eaters slowly turned to walk back out of the Meeting Chamber; Severus intended to follow them, hoping to find something that would give a clue as to where they were. "Severus, could you join me for a little … chat?"

Snape almost lost his cool as he turned to walk towards the Dark Lord, watching as Ginny Weasley stared at him with her mouth agape, words forming on her tongue. He tilted his head to one side, in warning. She closed her mouth, instead staring at him wide brown eyes.

"My Lord," Severus said, kneeling at the feet of the Dark Lord, and dropping his head to the cement ground.

"Come now, Severus, stand. I want to talk to you privately," the Dark Lord said. _Those words are never good, _Snape thought, watching as his 'Master' turned to Lestrange and the other Death Eater. "Please escort Ms Weasley back down to her lodgings, where I will call for her when Harry arrives."

"Go screw yourself!" Ginny shouted, earning herself a hard backhand across the face by Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Don't test my patience, Ginny," the Dark Lord said in a deathly soft voice, staring at her darkly. "Or I may just have to let you watch as your son is ripped from your body and killed before you." With that, Ginny was pulled away swearing and struggling against her captors. When the doors shut behind her across the room, the Dark Lord looked back to Severus, his young face open and smiling once again. "I'm sorry about that, Severus. Why don't we go somewhere a little cosier?"

"Yes, My Lord, good idea." Severus crooned, following a few steps behind his master, keeping a strong grip on his wand the entire time. _Something is wrong._ The Dark Lord led him into a rather good-looking study, complete with large mahogany desk, leather chair and a wide window behind it. Unfortunately, though, it was curtained with deep blue drapes.

"Ahh, this is much better. Do you agree?" he said, taking a seat in the large leather desk-chair, surveying Severus with those icy blue eyes,

"Yes, much better, Master," Snape agreed with a flat voice. There was silence as the two of them stared at one another – Snape with tense yet ready black orbs and the Dark Lord with a simple, carefree gaze.

"How go your studies, Severus?" the dark-haired man asked after a while, stretching back into his seat.

"Good, sir. As you know, Potter and the others are unaware of my position in your ranks. They do not know where Weasley is, although they believe they have looked everywhere." Snape recited blandly.

"Good, good. But it's only a matter of time before Harry finds me. Tell me…is he as powerful as they all say?" Again – it was a stalling question, much like the one before. Severus was not sure what the Dark Lord was waiting for, but it wouldn't be something good.

"He is powerful, My Lord, as many saw when he killed your predecessor," Severus said, curious when he saw a shadow flash across the Dark Lord's eyes.

"You mean Lord Voldemort?" He said with a dark voice.

"Y-yes sir," Snape said, swallowing a lump. "Potter is powerful, but that was only because of Albus Dumbledore. Now that the meddling old fool is dead, Potter will be much easier to destroy." Snape disagreed completely with what he said. Harry Potter was powerful … the most powerful wizard he had ever met. "You would be able to overcome him easily, Master."

"Are you so sure about that, Severus?" he asked with one raised eyebrow as he leant forward to clasp the edges of the table. "Lord Voldemort was an incredibly powerful man – the most powerful there ever was. But still, a seventeen-year-old schoolboy was able to destroy him. And that had been _after_ the death of Albus Dumbledore. Answer me that."

Severus was starting to feel uncomfortable. "The Dark Lord had been injured in the duel with Dumbledore, Master. He had to face Potter with limited strength and energy."

The man behind the desk stared at Severus with a growing smile, a strange light glowing in his eyes. The silence was uncomfortable for Snape, who had to bite his tongue to keep from moving. After an incredibly tense amount of time, the Dark Lord sighed. "Maybe you're right, Severus. After all, if Harry Potter had duelled Lord Voldemort when he was at his full strength, there was no way he would have survived." The man looked at Severus again, straight through the slits in the mask into his eyes. It was as if he was testing him to see whether he would disagree or object in anyway.

Severus nodded, keeping his thoughts blank. "Definitely, Master." The Dark Lord grinned toothily, standing brusquely.

"Come here, Severus. I would like to show you something." Snape's heart was thumping as he nodded and made his way over towards the window, where the Dark Lord was slowly pulling apart the drapes. Severus looked out quickly, taking in the small village below, the large front lawn, the vine-covered cabin near the fence-line. He stepped closer, no longer aware of anything except the one thing he could see to the right of the property.

It was a graveyard. A very _familiar _graveyard.

_This is it! _He thought. _I know this place! Now, to contact Potter!_

"I believe you know this place, Severus," a soft, smooth voice interrupted his racing thoughts. Snape flinched slightly, before nodding.

"Yes. I've been here before. That is the graveyard where –"

"– where Lord Voldemort regained his body?" the Dark Lord finished with a sinister smile. "Yes, it is. I find this place has a sort of – _homey_ – feel to it. Don't you think?"

"Yes, My Lord." Snape replied vacantly, reaching with his mind to find what he was looking for. The Dark Lord was silent, staring intently out the window, still wearing that sinister smirk. But Severus did not see it, having found what he had been searching for. Harry Potter's mind. Now, for the right time to act…

"Please excuse me for a second, Severus. I have one matter to attend to," the Dark Lord said suddenly, facing him with a peculiar glint in his eye. Much like triumph.

"Take your time, Master," Severus said, watching as the Dark Lord strolled across the room and through the doors. As he shut them, he caught Snape's eyes and he smiled broadly, as if he knew a secret which no one else knew. As the doors closed with a soft _click_, Severus quickly looked back out the window.

"I hope you know what to do, Potter," he said with a shaky voice, looking out at the graveyard where his nightmares had first begun.

**…---…---…**

"The Dark Lord has called for his servants," Harry said to the room full of people. He had been fast to act. As soon as Snape had vanished, he had called forth all the members of the Order of the Phoenix, brining them in for an emergency meeting. His heart was thumping painfully in his chest and his palms were sweaty as he stood in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

There was an intake of breath as he announced this and everyone started to ask questions at the same time. He held up his hand for silence, and everyone stopped talking, all their attention on him.

"Snape and Malfoy have gone, with orders not to try anything stupid," Harry said with a heavy heart. "I've been talking to Snape and we've worked out a way for him to be able to communicate with me."

"How?" Hermione blurted.

"By using Legiliumcy," he answered. He got quite a lot of confused expressions.

"Legiliumcy only works with eye contact, Harry," Hermione said in a small voice. He nodded.

"I know."

"Then how?" she asked in confusion.

"When I had lessons with Snape for Occlumency, our minds made a sort of connection that enabled us to enter each other's minds without much thought. Some of his Legiliumcy and Occlumency powers were transferred to me."

"Oh, that's why you didn't have to keep having lessons in seventh year!" Hermione said with sudden realisation.

"Yeh, I had Snape's powers for it – he wasn't pleased."

"I'd bet," Fred said with a small grin.

"So, we're going to use that connection again."

"How? I understand what you said then, but how is the connection meant to work when Snape's off somewhere and you're here?" Ron said with a frown.

"Right, about that. Snape's going to find out where he is, by either hearing about it or seeing it. He will reach with his mind to find the mental connection and alert me somehow. Then, I can follow the connection with my mind and enter his, thereby seeing his thoughts and where he is."

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "Have either of you tried this yet?" everyone was staring at him again and he felt a thick slime make its way up his throat.

"No."

"Then how do you know it's going to work?" Molly Weasley said.

"It could be just a waste of time!" Kingsley said.

"You should have made a plan that might actually work! This could've well been our last chance of getting Ginny back!" Hestia said with a stern glare.

"What?" Harry snapped angrily. "I thought all you had given up on finding her? You all said it was useless trying to get her back! That I should just move on!"

"We didn't –!"

"Yes, you did!" Harry shouted. "You all gave up! I suspect Dumbledore is plotting to haunt you all right now! His Order of the Phoenix – a bunch of flaming cowards!"

"We're not –!"

"You are!" Fred said suddenly.

"Yeah, you lot gave up just because things got a little tough!" George continued in outrage.

"Ginny would never give up," Ron said in a tense voice.

"She would be still fighting now," Hermione continued.

"And what have all you done?" Harry said in a low voice. "Given up on her."

"Harry, that's a bit harsh," Tonks said. "We had no idea where the Dark Lord was hiding. We had nothing!"

"Then you should have kept looking for something!" Harry said loudly, slamming his fists onto the table. "Like I did! Like Ron, Fred and George did! Like Luna, Neville, and Hermione did! We didn't give up! We _haven't _given up!"

"Harry –"

"No. When Snape calls and I find out where he is, I'm going – whether any of you are or not."

"I was just going to say that I will go with you," Remus said with a thin smile. "I didn't give up."

"Oh, right…" Harry said uncomfortably.

"And how could you say we were cowards?" Moody barked. Harry glared at him.

"Because you've been acting like cowards," he replied.

"But –"

"Dumbledore –"

"Times have changed –"

"What we're trying to say, Harry," Mrs Weasley broke in with a stern voice. "Is that since Albus died, we've had no need to keep up the Order. But now that we're in it again, we don't know what to do."

"Albus had always led us," Minerva McGonagall continued.

"He was so strong and kept us all together," Tonks added.

"And now that's he's gone…"

"…we're lost."

There was a thick silence, where no body moved, all staring either at the table or at Harry. He was speechless, looking from tortured face to tortured face. "You're telling me," he choked out, "that the reason you've all given up is because Dumbledore is no longer alive?" He only received nods in answer. He let out a rough laugh. "You're joking me?"

"No," Hestia said. "We all loved Dumbledore –"

"And you think I didn't?" Harry snapped. Everyone stared at him as if he had lost it.

"What's that supposed to mean, Potter?" growled Alastor Moody.

"I loved Dumbledore and it tore me up that he died. But I didn't give up when I was fighting Voldemort!" he said with flaring eyes.

"No, but you ran away afterwards!" Tonks said loudly. "And that's not cowardly behaviour?"

Harry flinched and looked down at her. "That was different," he said softly.

"How was it, Potter? You ran away –"

"AFTER I defeated Voldemort!" Harry said. "Not before but after! I kept fighting while Dumbledore lay dead at my feet!" Many people flinched and Minerva let out a small yelp. "I left because I had nothing left! Nobody wanted a murderer hanging around at their feet!" Ron and Hermione looked down. "I left because there was nothing else left for me!"

"Harry –"

"Stop saying my name!" he said, glaring at Tonks. "I may have left but I came back because I had the impression you needed me. Ginny came and got me, rescued me from the pointless life I was living. She proved to me that somebody wanted me. _She _wanted me. And _I _wanted her. We had each other. Then, when everything was going great, Arthur was poisoned and Ginny was taken! And I thought that since you were the Order of the Bloody Phoenix, you would help me get her back!" by now he was shouting and he lowered his voice. "I thought you would help me get her back. She's gone and I can't find her. I thought you would help me get her back." his thoughts landed on Ginny and the words of the second prophecy rang through his head. "And I can't find them. You were meant to help me get them back!"

There was a heavy silence in which nobody moved or spoke. Harry was breathing heavily, leaning against the wall with his hands clutching at his mouth. "I need to find them," he panted painfully.

"Harry, who's 'them'?" Hermione said softly, standing to walk over to him. He looked at her with frightened eyes. He didn't need to answer, because somebody else did for him.

"Ginny and their child."

Everyone looked at Luna who was staring sadly at Harry who couldn't help but nod. "Harry? Is that true?" Mrs Weasley said with a shaking voice. "That Ginny is p-pregnant?" Harry continued to look at Luna, not knowing what to say but knowing nothing needed to be said.

"Oh Merlin…" Ron breathed in despair.

"How?" Bill said in disbelief. Fred turned to say something but George laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

"Our son…" Harry said softly and with a voice so full of pain and agony, that even Moody flinched. "I was going to be a father…"

"You're still going to be a dad," Hermione said and Harry was startled to see that tears were streaking down her cheeks. "We'll make sure of it."

"Yeah, we wouldn't miss being uncles for the world," George said as Fred nodded eagerly at his side.

"And I'm going to be a Grandmother," Molly said with a sad voice, her own face shining with tears. "Arthur will be so proud."

"We'll get her back, Harry," Tonks said, standing quickly. "We'll get them both back safely."

Harry couldn't answer; he was too choked up. He merely nodded and accepted the hand Hermione gave him. She squeezed it tightly, and it encouraged him slightly. He stepped away from the wall, wiping away a single tear which had been gathering at the corner of his eye.

"Thank –" he was about to say, but was interrupted by a sudden tugging that came from behind his eyes. It was as if something inside his head was pulling on the cords connected to his eyes. It felt incredibly strange. "Snape…" he breathed.

"What?" Hermione said sharply.

"Snape! The sign!" And with that, he lunged into the darkness of his mind, searching for that single silver thread that connected his mind with that of his old Potions Master. Once he found it, lingering in the corner behind his memories of the Dursley's, he grabbed hold, following it quickly. It took a while, but he managed to take himself into the troubling darkness of Severus Snape's mind. It was so silent and deathly still. Nothing moved. It was like a barren wasteland, much unlike Harry's, where there were things lying around everywhere. Harry looked around, searching for anything that might be of help to him.

There! He found it. In the darkness loomed a tall metal door. It was covered in padlocks and chains. Some had keyholes while others didn't. It was so tightly bound that most of the original door could not be seen. Harry moved towards it, not knowing if he was actually walking or the door was merely moving closer to him. Suddenly, he was before it, staring up at the thick, snaking chains. He looked around it, finding the back much the same as the front. He stretched out a hand to touch it. As soon as his fingers grazed the metal of one of the locks, the whole door shuddered as if something inside was trying to get out. The shaking got harder – stronger.

Then, the chains fell off all in one go. Harry stared amazed, for there, before him, was the door. It was unlocked and ajar. He pushed it. It opened. Suddenly, a wave of different thoughts and emotions overtook him. It bowled him over and he got lost in the alien emotions and racing thoughts. He could see a young Snape it mostly all of them.

He was being beaten by an older, hook-nosed man.

He was crouching in a corner, crying, as a woman fought with a man.

He was staring across at a beautiful red-haired woman. She smiled at him. He couldn't help but smile back.

He was looking out at a black haired boy with bright emerald eyes as he duelled with the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Harry realised that it was himself. _What did Snape say to do? _

"_**Picture the thought you want to see; demand it to come to you."**_

_I want to see where the Dark Lord is hiding._

There was nothing.

_I want to find where Snape is._

Still nothing.

_Show me where Ginny is!_

Suddenly, he was staring at a haggard, haunted Ginny Weasley as she stood before a tall, dark-haired man who looked quite familiar. She was so thin and bloody, with scratches over her face and arms. And her hands were wrapped around her stomach, where a small mound had grown. _Our son!_ Harry thought with amazement. _They're alive! Ginny's alive!_

Then, the picture changed, and Harry found himself looking out of someone else's eyes. The dark-haired man was back and staring straight at him with a pair of cold blue eyes. There was something so darkly familiar about that handsome face that just screamed for Harry to remember. But then, the dark-haired man was gone, and the eyes he was using moved on their own accord. He was looking out of a window, down across an overgrown lawn, past a vine-covered cabin, then to a small village. The eyes turned from the town, looking to the side of the front yard.

He was looking at a graveyard. Cement tombstones leered up at him, vines covering them as well. The grass was overgrown, swaying in a soft breeze. The place was so familiar … so eerily familiar.

As Harry realised what he was looking at, Snape's mind rejected him and he suddenly found himself back in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, staring at a room full of nervous Order Members. Hermione squeezed his hand, but he let it drop.

"I have been so _stupid!_" he said in a hoarse whisper, frightened eyes flicking across the room. "It's him. It's Tom Riddle. I know where Ginny is."

…**---…---…**

**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Hey people.**

**OK… A lot to explain.**

**First, there will only be a couple more chapters after this. Three, I think.**

**Secondly, the bit with Harry going into Snape's mind was a little weird, but it was meant to be. Like this bit, '**Then, the chains fell off all in one go. Harry stared amazed, for there, before him, was the door. It was unlocked and ajar. He pushed it. It opened.**' That bit was quite short and abrupt, but since Harry is in Snape's mind, things more than likely would work strangely and be a little odd.**

**Thirdly, I know Harry went off at the end there. Like he was calling the Order cowards and all that, but he expected more from them. He thought that if they were Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, then they should be all brave and fearless. But, he learns to see that Dumbledore was not perfect, and he too was scared sometimes. He realises that, like him, they depended too much on Dumbledore.**

**Lastly, just to make sure you all aren't too confused. I told you a while ago that Voldemort is NOT back. Harry is just confused. That's all I'm saying. In the next chapter, quite a lot will happen. If you haven't already figured out who the Dark Lord is, that will be answered and just how he came to be. Harry will see Ginny. Ginny will see Harry. There will be some fighting, something will happen to quite a few people, and Wormtail will make an appearance.**

**Plus, someone will die.**

**OK, thanks a bunch to the reviewers and please continue to do so!**

**Later Days…**

**DW**


	34. The Riddles of Battle

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . .**

**Behind Emerald Eyes**

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

**Chapter 34 – **

**The Riddles of Battle**

**T**he sun was sitting low on the horizon, threatening to sink down and expel it's golden light. The sky was awash in scarlet and roan, with slight wisps of clouds fading from sight as quickly as the sun. The land was cast in a multitude of shadows, which danced beneath the trees and with the silent figures as they walked through the town. It was deserted. The homes lay vacant and looked as though they had not been used for quite some time, with the front lawns overgrown and wild, and the paint on the walls faded and peeling.

"We should have known there would be an Anti-Apparition Charm up," Nymphadora Tonks hissed from the corner of her mouth as she walked at the front of the group. They all had their wands out, ready for anything which happened to come their way.

"It's probably best that we didn't apparate in," Harry said from her side, scanning the flickering shadows between the buildings with a pair of hawk-like emerald eyes. "He would've known sooner then." There was silence as Tonks digested his words. Her forehead was furrowed and she glanced quickly at him.

"Are you sure it's _Him_?" she asked with a slightly quivering voice. Harry glanced at her and swallowed a lump in his throat. His hands had suddenly become wet with perspiration.

"There's no one else it could be," he answered after a while. "All signs point to his return."

"But how?" Tonks demanded; stopping and turning to face him. "How can he be back? I watched you kill him! I watched his Merlin-forsaken eyes glaze over with the sight of Hell!"

Harry shook his head sadly. "I don't know how he came to be, but it has to be him. Who else would be so intent on knocking me off, that they used the one person I loved to draw me to them? Only Voldemort is that savage."

"But what if it's someone else?" Tonks said desperately. "What if it's only someone copying all Voldemort's old motives. Like a – a – cat copier."

"Copy cat," Hermione corrected from Harry's other side with a sigh. "And she has a point, Harry. This could be someone you knew once, and they've decided to mimic Voldemort to get back at you."

"It's quite probable," Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody growled, limping towards them. "I've seen my fair share of copy-cat killers in my time, and let me tell you – they're hard to tell apart from the real thing. That's how I got this," he said, showing them his wooden leg. "Wasn't expecting Kirkoroff Vladimir's attack to come from someone else. Constant vigilance!" he barked at the end, causing Harry to flinch noticeably.

"If it's not Tom Riddle, then it's someone who looks incredibly like him," he muttered, the image of the handsome, icy man flashing through his mind. There was something haunted about his eyes – much like the way Tom Riddle's had been. But there was something else within the arctic depths; something sinister and somehow _personal._

He heard a sharp intake of breath at his side. "There it is." Harry looked to where Hermione was staring, and he felt his throat constrict. The Riddle Manor. The high white walls were stained with years of abandonment and neglect. Vines had climbed their way over the windows, stretching spiny feelers towards the slanting roof with dislodged tiles. The front lawn was overgrown, with waist-length grass which waved at them as they approached. The large, iron gates, with a bold, bronze **_R_** on the top ... were open.

"This is it," Harry said, clutching his wand even harder. He looked around at the others – they were all wearing faces of readiness and anticipation – Hermione nodded at him. He nodded back. They were ready.

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

A black robed figure stumbled down the stairs inside Riddle Manor, his white mask clutched in his hand, and his young face flushed. He collapsed into a bow before his Master, glancing quickly at the girl huddled in the corner of the room. She glared at him.

"Master," he panted.

"Yes, Robinson?" the tall man asked, placing a look of handsome curiosity upon him.

"It's him," the Death Eater said quickly. "They're here."

There was silence as an evil grin spread across the Dark Lord's face. He turned to look at his prisoner. "Guess what, dear Ginny?" he said softly, watching the girl look up at him with wide, frightened eyes. "Your hero's here."

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

"Keep your eyes open," Harry told them. "Who knows how many Death Eater's the Dark Lord will have."

"What happens if Ginny isn't here?' Hermione asked him softly. He sternly kept his head forward.

"Then we keep on fighting until we find out where she is," he replied determinedly. Though, inside, he was burning. What if she wasn't here? What if it was a trap to get him here and kill him?

_Then I will die fighting. _

A sudden movement ahead of him on the road drew him to a stop. A line of black-robed figures had spilled across the street, blocking their entrance into the gates. A lead Death Eater walked forward and Harry thought there was something familiar about that determined strut.

"Oh look, if it isn't Potty and his Order of Bird Watchers!" the Death Eater drawled, twirling a wand in his fingers. Harry smiled despite the situation. _Malfoy._

"Let us through," he demanded, putting up a show. Hermione had stiffened at his side at the sound of Malfoy's voice and her face had grown confused. Tonks, however, was grinning. Harry started walking forward, watching as the line of Death Eater's straightened, and thrust their wands forward. Malfoy, however, remained where he was, the white mask hiding his smirk as he gripped his wand in front of him.

"As you wish," he replied with a slight tilt of his head. Everything happened in very quick succession. Malfoy flipped around as Harry and the others sprang forward. "_Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"_

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" Harry shouted, watching as four Death Eater's went down. "_Stupefy!"_

Malfoy's surprise attack had taken many of the Death Eater's down, but now that they had realized what had happened, they were fighting back. It was a shower of multi-coloured sparks and bolts of electricity. Harry dodged and ducked, while firing spells into the scattering line of robed figures. The Order Members were fighting with as much enthusiasm, sending many masked spells at the Death Eaters which knocked them down. Harry had moved himself, so he was now side-by-side with Malfoy. Ron was a powerful dueler, and Harry watched him with a strong sense of pride. The red-haired man would send multitudes of curses at the enemy without so much as blinking an eye, all the while keeping an eye on Hermione as she fought behind him.

It was this that caused him to be hit with a sizzling purple cause in the shoulder. He gasped and collapsed to the ground, while Death Eater's closed in around him. Harry shouted, sprinting towards them, sending stunners at their backs. A few fell, while others turned to shoot curses back. He blocked them all, rebounding them back at their casters. He could see Ron on the ground, struggling to stand. A Death Eater kicked him – savagely – in the chest.

Anger welled inside him, and Harry thrust his wand forward. But before he could put words to his curse, a jet of black light shot from his wand and streaked lightning fast at the Death Eater. He didn't even have time to move as the curse struck him, sending him many meters into the air, and back. He landed with a quite audible and sickening crunch on the pavement. He didn't get up.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, crouching by his friend while placing a golden barrier around them just as a series of stunners hit it. "Mate, are you alright?"

"Yeah," Ron gasped painfully. Harry looked at his friend's shoulder in horror. His shirt had been ripped apart from the impact of the spell, and his skin was sliced as if he had been struck by a thick spear. It was bleeding profusely and Harry tried to stem the flow but it soon had saturated his hands and most of Ron's shirt.

"You're not," he said hurriedly, feeling as though his blood had turned to ice. "This might hurt a bit but I need to stop the bleeding."

"I trust you," Ron gasped, with an incredibly pale face. Harry felt briefly warmed by Ron's words, before he noticed his friend's eyes starting to glaze.

"Ron! Stay awake, mate!" he shouted. "Stay with me!"

Ron opened his eyes and squinted up at him. "I was just resting my eyes."

"I'm sure you were," Harry chuckled dryly. "Brace yourself." He grasped his wand, ignoring the way it slipped through the blood on his palms. "_Ferunia!" _Bandages sprang from his wand tip, wrapping tightly around Ron's chest and up around his shoulder. Ron gasped and his head went back in pain, though Harry kept tightening the bandages. He pulled his wand down; inspecting the material covering Ron's wound. It was tight and looked as though it would stay. But he didn't know how much good it would do Ron – his wound was inflicted by magic and magic worked in horrendous ways.

"How does that feel?" Harry asked worriedly. Ron looked up at him with a pale and sweaty face. He tried to look down at his shoulder but it must have caused him too much pain as he let out a shaky breath and let his head fall back.

"It feels as though I have a hole in my shoulder," he chuckled but Harry didn't find it funny. "Nah, it's fine, mate. Thanks."

"I don't have any Pain-Numbing Potion – Hestia has it," Harry said as he chewed on his lip, looking up. The battle was almost over, but there were still quite a few Death Eaters left fighting. Most of the Order was still up and fighting and they outnumbered the remaining Death Eaters by quite a bit. It wouldn't be long before it would be over and they would have to make their way up to the old house. Harry looked back down at Ron.

"Don't worry, Harry," Ron said, sitting up again. "I can still fight."

"But not very well," Harry countered. "Stay here and keep this barrier up – I'll go find Hestia and get the potion from her." Ron tried to object but Harry cut him off. "Stay here. I'll be back." Before he could reply, Harry dropped the shield and stood away, so Ron was forced to put it back up. As soon as he was out of the shield, a series of curses were sent towards him. He blocked most of them though one stunner streaked across his leg. He could feel his skin burning but ignored it. He needed to find Hestia.

He scanned the street – the fighters and those lying, motionless, on the road. He felt his heart hitch at the sight of a couple of Order Members lying amongst the black-robed Death Eaters. He hoped they were alive. As he blocked a stunner and sent a Full-Body Curse in the direction it came from, he spotted Hestia. She was fighting with her back against that of Remus, both of them sending a curtain of variously coloured spells to the five Death Eater's they were dueling.

Harry made his way towards them. "_Protego!" _he blocked a stunner as it came towards him. "_Petrificus Totalus! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!" _The Death Eater was struck by all three, collapsing to the ground with his arms and legs straight by his sides. The wand flew into the air above his head, and Harry caught it. He deftly snapped it on his knee and threw it beside the fallen Death Eater with a grim sense of satisfaction as he stepped over him.

Three of the Death Eaters had fallen by either Remus' or Hestia's spells and the two of them had broken apart to take the enemy on by themselves. Harry quickly maneuvered his way towards Hestia, dodging a curse as it was sent his way, and spinning to stun the Death Eater which had fired it at him.

"Hestia!" he called. "_Stupefy!"_ the Death Eater she was fighting dodged Harry's spell as well as hers. He sent one back which Harry blocked with Protego. "_Fernunculus! Expelliarmus!"_ His Boil-Inducing Curse struck its target, though the Death Eater stumbled, and by chance was missed by the second spell. Hestia caught his eye and smiled.

"Thanks!" she shouted.

Harry ran up to her, ducking a curse as it flew over his head. "Can I have a bottle of the Pain Numbing Potion? Ron was hit by a nasty purple curse," he said and she gasped. She rummaged through the pack on her hip, pulling out a small phial of red liquid.

"Get him to drink it all, but it'll only last for an hour at most," she said quickly. Harry nodded and thanked her profusely, before making his way across the body-strewn road. He found Ron still sitting on the ground, but in a position that enabled him to turn quickly. He didn't have the Barrier Charm protecting him.

"What are you trying to do?" Harry laughed as he joined his red-headed friend. "Get yourself killed?"

"Nope, get myself a few stunned Death Eaters," Ron answered, narrowly avoiding a Cruciatus Curse.

"Here, drink all this," Harry said, thrusting the bottle of potion in Ron's hands. "It'll numb the pain for a while. Hopefully, we'll be well out of here before it wears off."

"Thanks mate," Ron said, drinking the potion in one gulp. He shuddered afterwards though immediately looked better. "Should make the most of it, ay?" he laughed, taking Harry's hand to help him up.

"Yeah –" Harry went to answer but felt something strike his back from behind.

He was on fire. His body was on fire. Thousands of red-hot knives were stabbing into him, tearing his flesh apart. He fell to the ground, swallowing back screams of anguish. The pain was endless and he was beginning to see red spots in front of his eyes. Just when he thought he would forever be in excruciating pain, it stopped. He was left panting on his hands and knees, his whole body throbbing and stinging from the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse. He felt bile rise in his throat, and he spat blood out onto the road.

"Harry, mate, c'mon. You need to get up." Ron's voice seemed so far away and he struggled to understand the words. His ears were ringing. "We have to find Ginny."

_Ginny._

He coughed heartily, allowing a strong hand to pull him up. He wiped the blood from his lips, opening his sore eyes to look into the blue, caring ones of Ron.

"Are you alright, Harry?" he asked worriedly. Harry smiled dryly.

"Bloody marvelous," he answered.

"That's good," Ron said with a smile. "I thought you'd feel like crap."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, that too."

"All the Death Eaters are down; I just stunned the last one who was torturing you," Ron said and Harry finally looked around. It sickened him what he saw. All the Death Eaters were, indeed, stunned and bound. Tonks was taking their names, while Bill prepared a something in his hands. Hermione, Hestia and Remus were treating the injured, while Moody was doing something by the pavement. It looked as if he was covering something with a black cloth...

Harry's insides turned to ice and he swayed on his feet. Ron grabbed his arm to steady him, looking at him cautiously. "What is it? After-effects of the curse?"

Harry numbly shook his head, eyes glued on the black-cloaked figure who was now covered in a blanket. "Wh-what ha-happened? Who's that?' he stuttered, as Ron looked to where Moody and Charlie Weasley were now conversing. He turned back to Harry with a dark look.

"A Death Eater got what was coming to him," he answered, only furthering Harry's discomfort and writhing stomach. His mouth had suddenly gone dry and he went to unclench his fists but found they were stuck together. He drew them up to his face and wished he hadn't. His hands were covered in Ron's blood. It had dried and was now sticking his fists together around his wand. He stared at them then at the covered body on the pavement.

He had killed a man.

_I'm a murderer._

He suddenly found he couldn't breathe. He doubled over, placing his shaking hands on his knees, trying to think straight. But he couldn't. He could only think of, and see, the dead Death Eater. He could see him flying through the air after Harry had cursed him. And he could still feel the satisfaction of seeing and hearing the Death Eater land on the concrete with a loud, sickening, crunch.

_I'm a murderer._

He dropped his head and emptied the measly contents of his stomach onto the bloody road beneath him. He clenched his eyes shut but still could see the unmoving body, killed by his hand...

He vomited again, trying to rid his body of the filth that it surely contained. Someone was speaking, somewhere, in the distance. A hand was on his back though it did not comfort him.

_I'm a murderer. Just like Voldemort..._

He had not even wanted to kill Voldemort, and only did it because he knew that Voldemort was no longer human. He was a monster. But that Death Eater, even though had tried to kill Ron, would still have had a family out there somewhere.

He tried to reason with himself that he had not meant to kill him. But a nasty voice inside his head drowned out all other thought.

_You wanted to kill that Death Eater. You wanted to see him dead. And you liked it when he hit the pavement. You were satisfied to know you had destroyed another life. You _liked_ it._

"No..." he whispered hoarsely. _I didn't want to! It was an accident! He was going to kill Ron!_

_You liked it._

"Harry? Can you hear me?" It was Hermione and she was speaking from somewhere in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, shrugging off the hand which was resting on his shoulder. "Please, Harry. We need you. We have to find Ginny."

_Ginny._

Maybe it was best if the others went alone. That way, he wouldn't endanger Ginny's life, or anyone else's, any further. They wouldn't want to be lead by a murderer...

"Harry? C'mon mate." It was Ron. "That Death Eater would've killed me if you hadn't of got him first. I'm glad you did it mate, and I know you didn't mean to kill him. But that's what happens in war. People die. I'm just glad it was the enemy this time."

Ron had never been one to speak so wisely, but his words seemed the loudest of the voices in his mind. The nasty voice was replaced by his and suddenly air was in his lungs. He kept his head bowed though opened his eyes slightly. The first thing he saw was his blood-stained hands. He quickly thrust them into his pockets, straightening up.

Hermione and Ron were standing in front of him, with the rest of the group spread out across the road. Luna was not far away as well, with that dreamy look still in her eyes – though it seemed to be dampened by reality, as a large scratch ran across half her face. She still managed to smile. Tonks and Kingsley were standing where the previous bunch of Death Eaters had been. They must have been taken somewhere. Draco Malfoy was standing at the back of the group, closest to the partially open Riddle Gates. He had an expressionless look on his unmasked face, as he stared straight at Harry – his silvery-blond hair was in disarray around his aristocratic face. He raised a single eyebrow, as if in silent query as to what was going on.

Then, Harry let his eyes wonder to the opposite side of the street, feeling his heart thump painfully in his throat. He let out a rattling breath he didn't know he had been holding when he spotted the body-less pavement. The dead Death Eater had been moved. He moved his eyes back to the group, and caught those of a haggard looking Remus.

"I'm sorry, got a little caught up," he said hoarsely.

"Don't worry mate, I know how you feel," said Ron with a broad grin. Somehow, Harry didn't think Ron knew how he felt. But, he nodded anyway, suddenly feeling ashamed at how he had reacted.

"No need for apologies, Harry," Remus said with a sad little smile, that made Harry realize he wasn't alone. He returned the warming gesture and straightened up once more, pulling out his hands with a sigh.

"Can someone –?"

"We're right ahead of you, Harry," Fred said, pointing his wands at Harry's hands. "_Scourgify!"_ the blood instantly vanished, leaving Harry feeling lighter and much _cleaner._

"Thanks, guys," he said, flexing his fingers. His wand was still covered in dry blood but decided it would have to stay. He needed to get Ginny. Now. "OK," he said in a determined, strong voice. "Let's go."

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

"They've gotten passed first group, master," Bellatrix Lestrange said by the side of the Dark Lord. They were in the Drawing Room, staring out the window to watch Potter and the Order of the Phoenix reassemble and start for the gates.

"Excellent," he replied with a strange glint to his icy eyes. "It won't be long before they're in the castle. Please send Robinson to bring Ginny up. I want her with me when I introduce myself to Harry." Bellatrix nodded, bowing lowly, before moving out of the door. When it shut, the Dark Lord sighed, taking a hand to his chin. He could see Harry Potter down by the gates, directing his followers into positions. He could understand why so many witches and wizards followed him – he had a certain sense of _power _about him.

He could not wait to meet him, face-to-face. He wanted to find out what made him so strong, so determined. He wanted to know why so many of his Death Eaters _feared_ him. The Dark Lord smiled lightly, turning from the window to look at the man in the chair before him. Chains wrapped about the man's legs and chest, with a Silencing Charm on him so he couldn't speak.

"I do not know how Lord Voldemort could not see your lies," the Dark Lord said softly, walking towards the bound man. "But I have known since the day I summoned you, Severus. I have known about your job for Dumbledore's – or should I say _Potter's_ – Order. And I have been feeding you just the right amount of information to have you play straight into my hands. And it is only this which has kept you alive for so long... too long. Yes, Severus, I think the time has come for you to pay for all your crimes. But first, I wish to see Harry Potter – the one you have risked everything for."

Severus Snape stared up at the Dark Lord with endless dark eyes, a pale face set and ready for what was to come. He only wished to be free from this life he called hell.

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

Harry walked slowly along the path, wading through the waist-high grass with wary steps. The others were spread out around and behind him, each with their wands out, with spells ready on their lips. The house was looming in front of them, as if watching – waiting – for them to go inside. The front doors were closed, though for some reason, were free from vines. They actually looked as if they had been roughly cleaned, with the door handles glinting in the fading light.

The grass was swaying as if creatures lurked just beneath the surface. Harry remembered this muggle movie once, where dinosaurs roamed freely beneath the grass. They picked off a group of people one by one as they walked through it to the other side. This reminded him of it and it made him uneasy.

"Keep your eyes on the grass," he hissed to Hermione and Ron at his sides. "I think there could be Death Eaters hiding in it." Both of them nodded, passing along the message. Soon, the group was treading with much more careful steps, using their hands to part the grass as they walked through it. Harry watched the others from the corner of his eyes, making sure they were okay, and that no one was sneaking up behind them. Ron's bandage on his shoulder had slowly become stained with blood, and his face was slowly becoming coated in a shiny coat of sweat.

Harry paused in his walking, turning to face his friend. "Ron, is the potion wearing off?'

"No, it's fine," Ron said, though his voice shook slightly.

"No, it's not. You should have some more." Harry said, scanning the others. "Hey, Hestia? Can Ron have another bottle of potion?" The black-haired witch nodded, going into her bag. But, as she was searching, Harry suddenly heard a rushing sound and looked to see some of the grass being brushed apart as a spell swept through it. He went to shout a warning, but it was too late. It had reached the spot where Hestia was standing and hit her beneath the emerald blades.

She seemed to freeze, with her hand outstretched and the potion bottle sitting in her palm. Her face was set in a delicate calm, the same look of shock and fear in her eyes which Cedric's had portrayed. Slowly, as if it was the wind pushing her, she sunk down below the waving grass. Harry was frozen, too shocked to move, a call of warning still waiting on his lips. All he could hear was the wind blowing the reeds around him and his own heart thumping in his chest.

A call reached his ears, and he turned his head only to be knocked over by Ron as a green flash of spell light rushed over their heads. The two of them landed on the damp ground, the grass folding beneath them. "Thanks," he said quickly, as Ron merely nodded. The shouts of spells sounded around them, and the air above their heads was suddenly alight in multi-coloured flashes. The strong scent of grass was suddenly overwhelming as it was burnt by the spell-fire.

Harry put himself in a crouching position, making sure his head was still beneath the surface of the reeds. He could hear the hurried calls of the Order Members and others that must have been from the Death Eaters. Grasping his wand in his fist and readying himself, he sprung up.

"_Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"_ His spells were released into the general direction of the house, though missed all their targets, as the Death Eaters ducked back down into the grass. Harry sank down also as a series of spells sizzled just above his head. He swore loudly, trying to think of a way out of this. Something sprang to his attention, and he thought it was worth a shot. He placed his wand flat on his palm, and said, "_Point Me," _while thinking of the Death Eaters.

The wand spun about his hand, before coming to a rest pointing in a westerly direction from them. Making sure to keep the wand pointing in the right direction, he placed it in his fingertips. "_Incendio!" _The spell shot through the grass, catching it alight as it went. It burnt a trail in a straight line where the Four-Point Spell told him where the Death Eaters were, and he readied himself to fire spells after it. When he saw movement, he hissed the Extinguishing Spell, followed by, "_Stupefy! Stupefy!"_

He watched the spells fire down the hollow, burnt path, grinning when he was rewarded by a loud, "Ahhhh!" Harry and Ron started off down the track, keeping their eyes on the grass at their sides. They were trying to stay below the surface, but it was hard work running in a crouch. It seemed as though someone else had the same idea as Harry because the sky was now blotted out by thick black smoke. Any fire they saw, they placed the Flame-Freezing Charm on.

"_Flamma Congelo!"_ Ron shouted when they crawled through the tunnel to turn and face flickering flame. "_Flamma Congelo!"_ The Death Eaters Harry had stunned were lying partly in the grass, with flames slowly licking their legs and clothes. Harry watched for a few seconds before gritting his teeth. He _wasn't_ a monster.

"_Flamma Congelo!"_

"Let's keep going this way!" Ron panted, pointing in the direction of the house. "We can get a better view and take out any Death Eaters on the way." Ron's face looked incredibly pale and sweaty – and it wasn't from the heat of the fire. His bandages were now soaked in blood and the Pain-Numbing Potion must have worn off. He no longer could get any because the potions were with Hestia...

Harry didn't want to think about it.

"Ok," Harry answered, following Ron's crouched back closely. They didn't know how the others were going, as the sound of shouts had diminished somewhat but he hoped they were all right. As he crawled behind Ron, Harry heard rustling in the reeds beside him. He only managed to raise his wand in time as a figure came at them.

"_Stupef –!"_

"_Fernun –!"_

Both of them stopped at the same time while casting their spells, realizing who it was they were facing. "Potter?"

"Malfoy?"

"What are you doing here?" Draco demanded, though it didn't sound the same coming from him while on his hands and knees.

"Err...the same as you actually," Harry said. "Where are the others?"

"Why should I care?" Malfoy replied, but at Harry's stern look, said, "Spread out through the grass. I saw Granger back over there with Longbottom. She's trying to figure out a way to get rid of the grass –"

And just as he said it, the entire front lawn vanished; leaving behind a brown expanse of earth, with small tufts of grass remaining that were being consumed by flame. Harry, Ron and Malfoy were left out in the open, as well as everyone else. He quickly blocked a multitude of Stunners as they swept towards him, rolling to avoid a Killing Curse, before taking aim towards the front steps of the house.

"_Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Impedimenta!" _The first two spells missed, but the third struck one of the Death Eaters as he tried to scramble out of the way. He was left moving incredibly slow, until a well-placed _Stupefy _from Ron knocked him down. Harry whipped around; blocking spells and curses at every chance he got. He sent some back as well, too busy blocking to aim properly. Ron and Draco were in the same position, until they decided, on mental agreement, to back up against one another as Remus and Hestia had done earlier.

"_Stupefy!"_ Harry shouted.

"_Batia Bogus!"_ Harry thought it strange that Ron use the Bat-Bogey Hex in battle, but thought nothing more on it.

"_Lethargus!" _Malfoy shouted the Comatose Curse – a highly dark spell which placed the victim into a coma. Harry didn't care at the moment; too busy keeping himself and the others alive. There were hardly any Death Eaters left standing, and quite a few Order Members had fallen as well. Harry could see Luna and Neville fighting by the gate, Luna's hair loose and flowing around her head as if jinxed. Hermione and Kingsley were standing in the middle of the yard, as well as Fred and George – who's usually joyful faces were alight in savage determination. Then, Harry spotted Hestia, lying face down and motionless by a burning tuft of grass.

Another victim.

"_Imperio!" _

The Unforgivable Curse hit him unawares and his mind was wiped thankfully blank for a matter of seconds. _Kill your friends, _a sinister voice insisted in his mind. Harry merely shook his head, forcing off the curse, to gaze, unhindered, at a very shocked Death Eater a few meters in front of him.

"I'd rather not, thanks," he said coldly. "_Petrificus Totalus! Adglutino!" _the Death Eater didn't have time to react, before he was knocked off his feet and fastened to the dirt with invisible glue. "We need to get into the house!" he shouted and behind him he felt Ron tense as if struck. "It's the only way to find Ginny and stop all this!"

"_Protego!_ There are more Death Eaters inside, Potter!" Malfoy hissed. "_Lethargus!_"

"I know, but it's better than being out in the open. _Stupefy!" _Harry replied. "_Protego!"_

"Then how the bloody hell are we meant to get in with _this_ lot cursing us?" Malfoy shouted. Harry looked out and found that more Death Eaters had assembled around the fence line, all shooting spells towards them and the others. Harry blocked a stunner before watching as a Killing Curse shot towards them.

"DOWN!" he shouted as he dropped to the ground, glad that Malfoy, for once, listened to him. The curse shot harmlessly over them, but their position left them very vulnerable. Harry rolled to avoid being hit by a _Crucio,_ instead landing in the burning remains of a tuft of grass. The flames – unfortunately free from a charm – burnt into his side and stomach. He gasped, rolling back over and patting the fire quickly out. But, it only got worse. He was once more hit with a Cruciatus Curse, and his already weakened body curled outwards in pain. He dared not scream, instead biting down on his tongue to keep from yelling.

The pain did not last long, and when he opened his eyes, he found Malfoy watching him cautiously. "I'm fine," he bit out, quickly springing to his feet. It made him incredibly dizzy, but he gasped out a spell and stepped to the side as one shot by him. His feet struck a form on the ground and he fell, tumbling into something soft. He squinted out and saw red – glittering red.

Ron.

"Oh, no... No..." he couldn't believe it. He wouldn't. He fumbled over his friend's body, blind panic seizing his heart. "It can't – you can't – no..." he fingered Ron's wrist, his hands shaking so much he couldn't get a good grip. "Please!" he muttered, crawling over to grasp at Ron's neck. He still couldn't find a pulse. "No! Ron? Wake up, mate! It's me – it's Harry!"

Ron didn't move. "Please, get up!" Harry moved his arm, startled to find it covered in a thin sheet of blood. He looked to Ron's shoulder, pulling back his ripped shirt to find the bandage completely soaked in blood. It was even running off, down his arms. "Ron! Get up! C'mon! I'll take you to a Canon's game!"

Someone grasped his shoulder, and pulled him up. It was Malfoy. "What's your problem?" the white-haired man hissed. "We're in battle! _Protego!" _

"It's Ron," Harry muttered, pulling himself free from Malfoy's grip, to fall back to the ground. "He won't wake up and I can't find a pulse." He didn't dare put those two facts together. That would mean ... something he wasn't ready to hear. Draco gave him a cold look, quickly blocking another spell and firing one back, before looking down at him again. He rolled his eyes, bending quickly down and placing a finger to Ron's neck. A second later, he withdrew his hand, wiping it on his shirt as if ridding it of some invisible filth.

"He's alive – though barely." The man said, before turning to dodge a curse.

Those were the most beautiful words he had ever heard come from Malfoy's mouth. He looked down to Ron's bloody, pale face, and he released his tight hold on his friends shirt.

"You'll be fine, Ron. I'll get help!" Harry whispered, ignoring a spell as it struck the ground beside him. "_Scourgify!"_ The blood and bandages vanished; leaving a clean, gaping wound in it's pace. It wasn't long before blood was once again seeping down Ron's shoulder and arm, soaking his torn shirt. "_Scourgify!" _Harry said, and then quickly after, "_Ferunia!"_ Clean bandages wrapped tightly around Ron's shoulder and chest once more. When he was sure they were secure, Harry took a deep breath. "_Ennervate!" _

There was a moments pause, in which Harry held his breath. Then, Ron stirred. He let out a shaky sigh, tightly grasping his friend's hand. Ron's eyes slowly opened, squinting against the light. He looked up at Harry with slightly glazed eyes, before he gasped, clutching at his shoulder.

"Hurts – so – much..." he stuttered, as Harry held his hand tightly.

"Hang on, I'll find you some more potion," Harry said quickly, glancing up to find both himself and Ron inside a golden webbed shield. Malfoy was dueling a Death Eater on the other side, looking as though each spell cost him a great deal of energy. _Merlin... he's using up most of his energy to keep Ron and me safe!_ Before he could ponder this any further, Ron let out another painful moan. "Stay here, I'll be back."

He quickly passed through the golden shield, amazed at how many Death Eaters had fallen in the short time he had been distracted. He hurried across the barren earth, dodging a curse as it was cast at him, and blocking another. He passed by Hermione, who did not have time to speak to him as she was in an intense duel against an unmasked, female Death Eater, who's blond hair was stained in red. Harry had his eyes locked on the body of Hestia Jones, only thinking of getting the Potion satchel to help Ron.

He finally reached her body and he felt his heart hitch at the sight of her open, staring eyes. He found himself caught up in emotion, too saddened to move. A Stinging Hex caught his leg, and he almost fell. He turned and shot a stunner at the Death Eater, annoyed that he managed to dodge it.

"_Crucio!"_ the man shouted and Harry blocked it with a strong shield.

"_Stupefy!"_ he shouted, disappointed that his spell missed again.

"_Avarda Kedavra! _Die Potter!" The Killing Curse rushed towards him and he quickly dropped to the ground to ignore it, firing a stunner before he had hit the ground. His spell finally hit target, and he watched with a grim smile as the Death Eater fell to the earth. Harry turned his head and flinched when he found himself staring into Hestia's life-less eyes. He froze, seeing himself reflected on their glassy surface.

All noise came rushing back and he remembered what he had set out to do. He forced back the torrent of emotion as he fumbled with the pack on her hip. He unclipped it and waited for a few moments staring into Hestia's face. Before he pushed himself to his feet, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

"My Loyal Followers, I believe you have all heard by now that Mr. Potter has finally joined us," the Dark Lord announced to the half-full room of Death Eaters. There were murmured responses. "At the moment, they have almost broken through the second group, and soon they will be inside. Once there, my third group will be waiting in the Entrance Hall for them, as well as my friends." The Dark Lord grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. His cold blue eyes flashed.

"Master," a Death Eater came forward on his hands and knees. "Why are you letting them inside the Manor? Why not destroy them while at their weakest? It would be so easy!"

"Because, Macnair, that would be just that: easy. I want to test the Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter. I want to see how far their abilities go. So far, they have surpassed my expectations of them, though, once inside this Manor, they may fail. But, send word to the Third Group, I want Potter alive."

Ginny Weasley, who had been chained at his side, let out a silent cry for help – any help.

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

"There you go, Ron," Harry said, watching as his friend swallowed the Pain-Numbing Potion in one gulp. "I wish I could give you more, but too much can be dangerous."

Ron nodded distractedly, a far-away look in his eyes. "That s'k," he mumbled vacantly. After a few moments, the distant look in his eyes vanished, leaving them a harsh, blood-shot blue. "That's better."

"Can you stand?" Harry asked, taking his friend's hand.

"Yeah, I think so," Ron said, letting himself pulled to his feet by Harry. He swayed slightly and the blood on his face made him look deathly ill, but otherwise, he looked a bit like his old self. "Where are the Death Eaters?" he asked with a lightly creased brow. "Weren't we fighting them just before?"

Harry nodded, hiding a small smile. "Yeah, we were. Bill transfigured them into rocks and put them in his bag. He said it was easier that way."

Ron gave him a wide-eyed look. "Bloody hell!"

"Yeah, that's what I said," Harry chuckled, letting Ron lean slightly on his shoulder. "Are you sure you can walk?"

"I'm fine," Ron said, and as if to prove his point, let go of Harry's shoulder. He was able to hold himself up, even if he looked incredibly drained and exhausted.

"That's my boy," Harry said softly, gaining a glare from Ron. "We should get going again, before we're caught out in the open."

"Don't you think it's a bit weird?" Hermione asked as she sidled up to his side.

"What?" Harry asked.

"That the Dark Lord is letting us regroup and head into the house?" she said as Harry drew his eyebrows together in curiosity. "It's as if he _wants _us to go in."

"Well, we have to, don't we? There's no other way – unless..." he thought back to his dream before his fourth year. Hadn't there been a back entrance, through the kitchen? "What if half of us go to the back and the others go through the front, that way, if there's an ambush, all of us wont get caught?"

"That might be a good idea, Potter," Moody said gruffly, surveying him through his magical and normal eyes. "That way, we'll know at least some of us will have a chance to get to the Dark Lord."

"And Ginny," Harry added, thinking about his girlfriend and unborn child. What would happen when he saw her again? Would he be able to rescue her and take her home?

The chances of that were very, very slim. But he still had to try.

"OK, so you, Granger, Tonks, Lupin, Kingsley, Charlie, Longbottom, Ron and Malfoy go the back way. The rest of us will go the front. Any problems?" Moody barked, and when no one objected, he clapped his hands together. "What are you waiting for then? Get going!" They didn't need to be told twice. The two groups broke apart, Harry leading some of their number to the back, and Moody leading the others towards the front door. He wished them a silent good luck, knowing it was all he could do.

The back of the house was almost as wild as the front. The grass was slightly shorter, just coming up the their thighs, but the back wall was completely covered in vines. The group paused, staring at the thick mass of ivy and thorns.

"Umm...Harry? Didn't you say there was a door?" Charlie asked curiously.

"There is a door here – somewhere..." he said, walking forward with his wand. "_Diffindo! Diffindo!" _His cutting spells sliced through the vines, leaving blank spaces on the wall. The others, catching onto his idea, were soon casting the same spell over and over. Soon enough, they had cleared a space in the wall which was showing the top part of the door. Tonks went forward and pulled down the rest of the vines, standing back to admire her work.

"Good work, guys," she said with a grin. "Now...who wants to go first?"

"I will," Harry said immediately. Draco threw him a disbelieving look.

"_I'll _go, Potter, just in case there are Death Eater's waiting inside. They wont fire if they see me, and I'll distract them while you lot can do – whatever it is you do," Malfoy said, and Harry had to agree that his plan was better than his was.

"Send us a sign or something and we'll come in after you," Harry said quickly as Malfoy moved to the door.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Potter," Draco said with a smirk. "I'll be perfectly fine. _Alohomora!" _The door unlocked, and Malfoy reached for the handle, turned it, pushed it open and disappeared inside. There was a thick silence as the group outside readied themselves for attack. They struggled to listen to what was going on inside the house. There were muffled voices, one of them Malfoy's, before silence once more. Harry exchanged nervous looks with Ron, before gripping his wand, and sticking his head inside the ajar door.

He had to quickly withdraw it as a spell struck the wall beside him. "I guess _his _plan didn't work," Ron said dryly, flattening himself against the vine-covered wall with the others. Harry stuck his wand into the door.

"_Stupefy!_" he hissed, quickly taking his arm back and listening as shouted voices reverberated in the kitchen. Suddenly, the door exploded, sending shards of burnt wood across the over-grown lawn. Death Eaters started pouring from the door, not knowing that the Order were right behind them.

"_Stupefy_!_!" _Tonks shouted, striking one Death Eater squarely in the back. "_Stupefy! Stupefy!"_

"_Crucio!" _one of the masked villains shouted, sending the curse towards Tonks. She managed to block it, sending a stunner back. It didn't take long for them to take down all the Death Eaters, quickly transfiguring them into small black stones.

"More rocks for Bill's collection," Charlie said with a grin, placing the stones into his pocket, "He's going to be so happy."

"Enough of that," Kingsley said. "We need to go in and see how the others are going."

"C'mon, then," Harry said, sliding his way through the door with his wand poised in front of him. The kitchen was empty, with two dark shapes lying on the dusty tiles. Harry hastened forward, turning one figure over to find the blank face of Malfoy staring up at him. "_Ennervate!"_

Draco's face twitched and in one liquid movement, his wand was jabbed into Harry's neck. His eyes widened in surprise at seeing who it was, and he slowly lowered his wand, a pink flush creeping up his neck. He pushed Harry out of the way, standing to sweep dust from the front of his robes. He nodded. "Potter."

Smirking, Harry said, "Malfoy."

"Stop the niceties; we need to keep moving," Hermione said, weeping back the loose tendrils of hair which had been snaking down her face. "Have you forgotten _why _we ar here?"

Harry gave her a hard look. "Do you think I'd ever be able to forget _that?" _

"No, but the way you're acting, I'd be surprised."

"Right..." Draco said. "The front of the house is that way, through the hallway and the Dining Room. The Dark Lord's quarters are upstairs, though he spends most of his time in the East of the house, in the Meeting Chamber and the Drawing Room."

"What about Ginny?" Harry asked quickly. "Where does he keep her?"

"The Dark Lord keeps her downstairs, in the bottommost room," Malfoy said, but added, "Though, he keeps her with him most of the time. He believes she is a 'prize worth keeping'."

Harry gaped at him, suddenly feeling very ill. "He doesn't...hurt her...does he?"

"No, actually, he doesn't. He leaves that chore to Lestrange," Malfoy answered simply.

"Lestrange? As in Bellatrix?" Tonks snarled. "I thought that bitch would've rotted long ago!"

"Unfortunately not," he said with a cold look in his eyes. "Aunt Bella has been keeping her priorities in place, alongside the Dark Lord. I don't know why he keeps her around; I think she's a little too _mad _for comfort."

"I can't wait to see her pay for all she has done," Hermione said darkly, gaining a startled look from Harry. "Well, first Neville's parents, Sirius and now Ginny; she _deserves _to die a very painful death."

"For once, Granger, I'd have to agree with you," Malfoy said. Ron gave him an incredulous look but kept his mouth closed. Harry silently agreed with Hermione – he had wished Lestrange dead since his fifth year.

"Let's keep moving," Charlie said, breaking the tense silence. "I haven't heard anything from the others." Harry thought that strange and the more he thought about it, the hairs on the back of his neck started prickling. The group of them started down the hallway, wands ready in front of them and eyes and ears alert for approaching danger. It had grown dark, the scarlet light from sunset having vanished, as well as its gentle heat. As they approached the front of the house, Harry started to feel incredibly cold, and goose-pimples had risen along his skin. He turned to see a foggy breath of air exit Tonks' mouth.

"Guys..." she said with a shaky voice. "I don't think its just Death Eaters we have to worry about."

Just as she said it, the hallway opened up into a wide Entrance Hall, with the white tiles strangely clean. Harry stopped, a curse dying on his lips. About twenty Death Eaters had their wands on them, and as he turned, he spotted Kingsley and Neville at the back of the group, both frozen with fear with wands pointed at the backs of their heads. Turning back to the front, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat.

In the centre of the room were Dementors, and on the floor in front of them, were the rest of the Order of the Phoenix – bound with ropes and supporting various injuries. The Death Eater at the front of the group stepped forward, a hand rising to its face to remove the mask. A haunted, scarred, once handsome face was uncovered. A pair of familiar, yet cold, grey eyes swept over them.

"Little _baby_ Potty, how nice of you to join us," Bellatrix Lestrange taunted with a broad, savage grin. "And I see you've brought your little friends once more."

"Lestrange," Harry spat. "Where's Ginny?"

"Oh, that's no way to treat your superior, is it? And as for your little Weasel-Girl, she's just fine, though that's not what I can say for that piece of filth growing in her body. I should have told you a while ago, Potter, not to stick things where they don't belong." Some of the Death Eaters let out guffaws behind their masks, only infuriating Harry more.

"If she is hurt –!"

"What? You'll sick your _friends_ onto me," she said, stepped over to a roped Bill. She kicked him fiercely in the side, so much so that he fell over. "Like you did with _these _so called '_Dumbledore's Best'_?" She started laughing manically, throwing her head back so her tatted dark hair spilled back from her face. "Surely you can do better than _that_."

"What? Better than I did the last time we met?" Harry growled. "Better than killing Voldemort?"

There was no more crazed laughter. Instead, Bellatrix was staring at him with a slowly reddening face, her cold eyes slitted like those of a predatory beast waiting to attack. "I think that comment deserves a punishment, don't you think? Which one of your little friends should I ask the first _kiss_ be delivered to? Hmmm..." she turned and started pacing in front of the bound Order Members, staring into each of their blank faces. "Decisions...decisions... so hard! Hmmm... How about one of the blood-traitors? Yes! That would be brilliant!" she said, stopping in front of Fred ad George. "Two for the price of one! You two can share a Dementor, can't you? Oh yes, why I even bother asking! Of course you can!"

"Touch them, and die," Harry hissed, gripping his wand even tighter. Bellatrix grinned at him, flicking her wrist. A Dementor swept forward, pausing at her side.

"Those two, thanks dear," she said, pointing to Fred and George. The Dementor bowed its hooded head, a scaled hand emerging from beneath the folds of its robe.

"No! _Expecto Patronum! Stupefy!"_ Harry shouted, his spells flying from his wand as two blurs of red and white. But, before they could reach their targets, they seemed to dissolve into nothingness, fading into mere wisps of coloured cloud.

"Now, now children, play nice," came a smooth, echoing voice. Harry whipped his head around, feeling his chest tighten at the sight of the Dark Lord. His cold grey eyes were resting on Harry, a flash of recognition shooting across them like a frozen bolt of lightning. "Harry... How nice to see you – at last."

Harry stared at him with emerald eyes of malice. So this was the man who had taken Ginny from him and killed Dave. The man who had threatened the life of his unborn son. The man who looked so much like Tom Riddle.

"What do you want from me?" Harry said at last. "I don't even know you." He heard Hermione stiffen at his side, more than likely at his change in decision. At the beginning, he had been so sure this was Tom Riddle – the younger version of Voldemort. But now that he was seeing him first hand, there were differences. The bone structure, for one. Tom Riddle never had those high cheekbones and jutting chin, his features had been more curved. The height was about the same, though the hair was a but lighter. But the eyes... they were Tom Riddles.

"I thought you would've figured it out by now, Harry," the man said in that same, smooth voice. "All the clues, the similarities, the _connections. _I thought it was obvious who I was and what I wanted." At these words, Wormtail appeared behind him, and in his silver grip he carried a chain. And on the other end of it was...

"Ginny!" Harry breathed, and he went to move forward, but the Dark Lord shook his head.

"No false moves, Harry, I don't want my friend's hand here to _slip."_ Ginny's eyes had locked with his and he could see the pain, sadness and sheer desperation in their hazel depths. He wanted nothing more that to run over and wrap his arms around her. But he knew he couldn't. She looked so frightened. Her clothes were dirty and hung off her thin frame as if she had lost a lot of weight. And as his eyes landed on her stomach, he felt as though the room was spinning around him.

She mouthed his name silently and he didn't think he could stand and do nothing any longer. He turned his attention back to the Dark Lord, who had watched their exchange with a small, infuriating smile. "What do you want?" Harry snarled. "Have me, but let everyone else go!"

"My, how did I know you would say that?" the Dark Lord said with a chuckle. "I must be a _Seer!_ Quick, any minute now I might recite a _prophecy!"_ Bellatrix was laughing, as well as many of the masked Death Eaters. The Dementors shifted slightly. "No, Potter, I won't release my only means of leverage."

"Then tell me what you want!" Harry shouted angrily.

"I want you to suffer," the Dark Lord said suddenly, his previously light face now much darker, as he stepped forward. "I want you to suffer like I have suffered my entire life. I want you and all your friends dead. But first, I want you to watch me kill your son, and then, your precious _Ginny_."

"But why? I haven't done anything to you!" Harry said. "I don't know you!"

"Oh, but you do, Harry." The man said, coming closer still. "I watched when I was younger, as you grew and slowly came into your powers. I watched as you battled with the demons of your mind and the horrors of your past. I watched, because I could do nothing more. You took the one thing from me I ever loved."

"And what was that?"

"My father."

Harry recoiled. "What? I didn't take your father! I don't even know who your father is!"

The Dark Lord came closer, an icy spark growing in his eyes. "You do and you have your whole life. You took my father from me twice, the second time for good. And I will never forget about that."

Harry just stared aghast at the deranged man, while Hermione gasped behind him, as if discovering something he didn't know. He glanced to Ginny and saw silent tears sliding down her cheeks. "I don't know what your talking about," Harry said. "Your father? I took him from you twice? But – how? I mean – I..." his jaw dropped as sudden, harsh, realization came crashing upon him. "No!"

"Oh yes, Harry. You banished my father when I was only a boy, and just when I didn't think I would ever see him again, he came back to me. But then, barely three years later, you took him again. I understood then what I ha to do. You had to die for what you did to me."

"Your father..." Harry breathed. "Voldemort..."

"Yes. You didn't see that one coming did you?" The Dark Lord said, smiling a dark smile, as the eyes he inherited from Tom Riddle, flashed in deadly thoughts of revenge.

**. . . - - - . . . - - - . . . **

**Disclaimer – **I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**wipes forehead with back of hand**

**Whoa... **

**How long is **_that_** It's huge! And I still didn't get to where I wanted to go! That's the longest thing I've ever written! Don't expect another chapter of that length in a while. I can't believe I wrote that!**

**So... how was it? And the ending... lol, priceless. That was for all you who didn't know who the Dark Lord was. **"Yes. You didn't see that one coming did you?" **Haha. 19 and a half pages! Almost ten thousand words! I will never get over it. But I feel a strange sense of accomplishment, if I came first in an exceedingly hard test. Strange... though good!**

**So, thanks to those that have reviewed, and I hope this is to your standard!**

**Oh yes, and I better add that I now have a Yahoo!Group. The URL is in my profile, under Homepage. So, click that, and then it will redirect you to the Group. It's got all my stories up there plus any other things I want to write. Post messages and reviews, whatever you feel like. I hope to see you there!**

**Later Days...**

**DW**

**Ps. Poor Hestia! She wasn't meant to die, but she got caught in the crossfire of my mind! Sniff. And I was just starting to like her. Though, for the next chapter, prepare for more deaths.**


	35. The Lion and the Snake

. . . - - - . . . - - - . . .

**Behind Emerald Eyes**

. . . - - - . . . - - - . . .

**Chapter 35 – **

**The Lion and the Snake**

"Sweet Merlin!" Fred Weasley said in disgust. "That _thing _reproduced?" Had the situation been different, Harry would have laughed. But there was no humour in the Dark Lord's flashing eyes as he stared at Harry with pure, frozen malice.

"You killed the world's greatest wizard, Harry," he said softly, almost in a whisper.

The Dementors had retreated, but Harry was still getting over the shock of finding out this man in front of him was the son of the one and only Lord Voldemort. He shook his head, trying desperately to dispel haunting images of Voldemort and a human-being ... together ... in bed ... snake eyes, thin scaly body...

He dry retched and could not help a shiver as it raced across his body. _So ... sickening..._

"He wa-wasn't the greatest wizard," Harry finally choked out. "Dumbledore was."

The mutant spawn of Voldemort smiled and Harry wondered how he couldn't see the resemblance to Tom Riddle earlier. "But I hear how your voice quakes with fear, Harry."

Harry let his jaw drop. "I was shaking in disgust!" he blurted out. "Because you just _had_ to go and mention Voldemort reproducing! You've got us all scared and sickened now!"

George let out a nervous snicker.

The Dark Lord did not even flinch when he released a dazzling white spell from his hand. It streaked towards George, and he did not even have time to widen his eyes in shock as it struck him in the centre of his chest. He was propelled backwards, hitting the staircase with a sickening crunch. Ginny screamed. Hermione's hand went to her mouth. And Fred thrust his wand forward, a deadly fire burning in his eyes.

"_Diffindo!"_ Fred shouted, shooting the yellow cutting spell out of the tip of his wand. Harry stood in shocked silence when the Dark Lord merely flicked his hand, sending the spell ricocheting towards upwards. It didn't even leave a mark in the elegantly painted ceiling.

"Don't be stupid, Weasley," he said darkly. "You are no match for me. Nor was your equally stupid brother." Harry glanced at George, who was sprawled uncomfortably over the stairs. He still hadn't moved. Fred glared at the Dark Lord, a thin sheen of sweat glistening along his brow. Harry could tell he was struggling with the urge to either seek revenge on the monster who attacked his brother and going to see how badly George was hurt.

It seemed compassion won over vengeance, as Fred, with one last glare at the smiling son of Voldemort, discarded his battle stance and retreated to the stairs. Harry stepped in front of the Dark Lord's vision of them, so he would be in the way if any curses would be sent their way.

A disappointed look appeared on the Dark Lord's face. "Aww … spoil all the fun, Harry."

Harry kept his wand forward, his heart thumping painfully in his chest, and his mind moving at a mile a minute. "That's what I do best," he said plainly, trying a figure out a way to get out of here alive - with Ginny by his side and no friends left behind. He was beginning to think it would be impossible, with Death Eaters covering all the exits and his beloved Ginny in the clutches of the one man who could take her from him.

"Let Ginny go," he said, knowing it would do nothing but waste more time. The Dark Lord chuckled, clapping his hands together and turning to look at bellatrix.

"Oh, maybe we should?" he said. "I wouldn't want _THE _Harry Potter to come after me! I am just _so _afraid!" Bellatrix Lestrange was laughing outright now, as well as most of the other Death Eaters. Harry remained silent, using the time to think of a plan, to either escape, or take down the evil spawn of Voldemort. Either was fine with him. As long as Ginny, and the rest of his friends, remained safe. He glanced at Fred and George out of the corner of his eye, feeling his heartstrings tighten at the still immobile form of George. Fred's face was chalk white as he kept trying to wake his brother.

_Please be alright, _he thought desperately, _you have to be alright. _

Silent tears were streaming down Ginny's face, as she looked at her brother then at Harry. She was trembling, and seeing her standing there, bound by chains and only covered by dirty, torn clothes - Harry wanted to kill everyone who had ever harmed her. His eyes moved to her bloated abdomen, seen through the gashes in her shirt. The milky skin that covered his child - his _son_ - was bruised with dirt and small scratches. He looked back at Ginny's face, where the tears had mingled with the tendrils of hair that fell across her eyes. She was staring at him, with so much fear and desperation in her eyes, Harry felt as though he would collapse with despair.

Her lips moved soundlessly, mouthing the words, '_I'm sorry'_. With a heavy, breaking heart, Harry knew he had to do something - anything - to stop her pain.

Turning back to the Dark Lord, who had finally stopped laughing, he took a determined step forward. The wands of the Death Eaters followed his every move, as did the cold eyes of Tom Riddle, projected by his son.

"Who are you?' Harry stated, amazed that his voice sounded so strong. The Dark Lord looked at him, the strange, sinister smile still at place on his lips.

"What do you mean, Harry?" he said curiously. "I told you who I was. I am the son of the world's most powerful wizard, Lord Volde-"

"-yeah, I know that part," Harry said irritably. "But _who are you_?" At the confused look on the Dark Lord's face, Harry added, "what do you want from me? What took you so long to rise? Who the _bloody hell_ do you think you are!"

The silence was thick and impenetrable, filled with the sounds of his friends' heavy breathing behind him, his own heart and the rattling breath of the Dementors lining the walls. The Dark Lord stared at him, the smile on his face sliding away as a harsh look replaced it.

"I have always been here," he said after a moment's pause, in which Harry thought he would not even answer. "But, how about we talk somewhere a little more 'private'?" he said, and Harry looked around at all the Death Eater's, Dementors and Order Members, and he knew he would rather stay here then go somewhere - alone - with the Dark Lord. But this might be the only chance he would get at taking him down. And he would take it.

He nodded briskly, hearing rather than seeing, Hermione tense behind him. "I'll be fine," he said under his breath. "Get ready." No one else heard their exchange, but one glance at the faces of his friends, they knew what would happen.

"How about we go into my Drawing Room, it's only across the hall. Then we can chat in quiet and discuss some rather important business," the Dark Lord said with a grin. "Bella, please take care of things out here. If one of them misbehave, please don't go light on punishment. But do keep them all alive - I may need some answer-influencing later on."

"But master, what about you?" she said, the eyes of the Black's resting on Harry for a moment. "I know Potter, and do not trust him."

"I will be fine, Bellatrix, for I know Harry as well. He won't hurt me if it will mean hurting his dear Ginny. If I do not return in, say thirty minutes time, feel free to start killing off his friends. But leave Ginny to me, I feel we have formed a bond in the time we have spent together. Have we not, dear Ginny?" he said, approaching her slowly. Harry tightened his hand around his wand.

"Don't you dare touch her," he hissed. But Ginny shook her head fiercely.

"Go kill yourself, you son of a bitch!" she shouted. The Dark Lord merely smiled.

"I see your temper has returned with your boyfriend. Very well," he said, "when I return, we shall resume this _charming _conversation." The Dark Lord kept walking across the room, twirling his wand in his hand as he went. _Maybe I could curse his back? _he thought. _He wouldn't know what hit him!_

"I think you're a bit more noble than that, Harry," the Dark Lord called suddenly. "I don't think you would be coward enough to hex a wizard whilst his back is turned. Come along, we need to talk." Harry, swearing, looked at Ginny.

"Please don't go!" she whispered, stretching a hand towards his own. Harry reached for it, but before he could touch it, Ginny was propelled backwards, the chain tightening on her ankle.

"Don't even think about it, Potter," Bellatrix said with a broad, psychotic grin. "She's off-bounds. Now go, don't leave my master waiting or -" she stroked Ginny's shoulder - "something may just happen to your dear Weasel."

"If you hurt her, it will be the last thing you ever do!" he said, thrusting his wand upwards, towards her neck.

"What? Like _this!"_ Bellatrix snapped out a hand, slamming it against Ginny's cheek, splitting her already bloody lips. Unbridled rage welled inside him and red blotted his vision.

"_DIFFINDO!"_ he shouted and he felt his hand vibrate with the power of it as it shot from his wand. But he was no longer standing in the Entrance Hall but in a much smaller room. His spell cut across the room, barely missing a figure sitting in a chair by the wall. It shattered the glass as it flew through the window, streaking as a yellow light into the cloak of night.

"What the -?" he began, but was cut off by the closing of a door. He spun around to become face to face with the cold eyes of Tom Riddle. "Ahh!" he jumped back in alarm.

"I couldn't let you stay out there and kill each other," he said simply, "I need the both of you alive so my plans can work out the way I want them to." Harry gaped at him.

"How did you -?"

"-miraculously transport you into the Drawing Room?" Harry nodded distractedly and the Dark Lord laughed. "I think you're underestimating my power, Harry," he said. Harry gripped his wand tighter, getting over the fact that he was just transported, without Disapparating, Flooing or Portkeying, by another person without his permission. He _had_ been underestimating the extent of the Dark lord's power, but at least he was now prepared.

"Why did you bring me here?" Harry said, finally taking a look around the room. It was a fairly large Drawing Room, with a shiny wooden desk with a heavy looking domed paper weight sitting on the side, high backed leather chair (which looked quite comfortable) and a large window behind the desk with deep cerulean drapes. The glass was now back in place, so it was easy to see out at the landscape with the sky a purple-washed-black. Then, his eyes trailed to the wall, where a man was tied, by chains, to a hard wooden chair.

The man lifted his head, looking up at him through a curtain of oily hair, to pierce into his very mind.

"Snape!" he said in disbelief. "I thought-"

"You thought he was still playing good-little spy?' the Dark lord said with a smile. "No, I figured Severus out the moment he reappeared before me when I called the Death Eaters. My father, bless his talented heart, was a little too trusting when it came to his servants. Me? I know a traitor when I see one."

"I knew he was still on you're side," the Dark Lord continued. "So I played it to my advantage. I gave him the information I wanted _you _to know, so I could draw you closer. I knew dear Severus was relaying information back to the Order and I also had suspicions about Draco as well. I wasn't sure about him, unfortunately, as I knew his father and trusted Lucius, as did my father. But, I should have known that all those that come into contact with the Great Harry Potter, come over with the sudden urge to do 'good' and join the 'light-side'. Even Dumbledore - the great fool - did not have that power, no matter how hard he wished for it. Why do you think, Harry, Dumbledore kept you around so long? Taking you to Order Meetings, and to the Minister, using you as his little 'tool' to influence the minds of others and get them to join his side. He was the greatest manipulator of all, Harry, and here you thought he was the world's most powerful wizard."

The dark Lord laughed, throwing his head back the way Voldemort used to do, so his features grew sharper and much more like those of Tom Riddle's. Harry glanced at Snape, who was watching him with a blank face. The old Professor looked haggard, with rings beneath his eyes and hollowed cheeks. His hair was much more oily than it had previously been and the robes hung off jutting bones. He looked weak and almost as though he had given up. The dark spark once present in his endless onyx eyes was missing, so they looked dull and lifeless. The chains wrapped around him were done so loosely, but the Potion's Master looked too weak to escape from their grasp.

A space deep inside Harry began to throb as he looked at his old Hogwarts Teacher, so noncommittal and defeated. For some reason, he expected more from Severus Snape, but it looked as though the many years he spent leading a double life, haunted and imprisoned by the memory of Voldemort and the still raw wounds of the many wars he had survived through.

Harry suspected the strange feeling spreading through him was pity.

"So, Harry, take a seat," the Dark Lord said, motioning to a plush emerald green armchair which had appeared on the other side of the desk. Harry eyed it suspiciously.

"I'd rather stand," he replied, clutching his wand tightly. "Why'd you bring me in here?"

"I thought you wanted to talk?"

"No, I wanted you to give me answers!" Harry said angrily. "Either you talk or I kill you!"

The Dark Lord laughed again, flicking his wand so Harry was forced down into the chair. He tried to get back up but he couldn't. "You have your mother's temper."

"Don't you dare talk about my mother!" he hissed.

"And you're still tender around the subject of your parents unfortunate deaths," the Dark Lord said with a grin. "Oh, did I say unfortunate? I meant fortunate."

"I'll kill you -!"

"Yes, yes, I heard that already. But time's a wasting and you want answers. So I will give them." Harry struggled against the invisible chains binding him, though found no weakness in their design. The Dark Lord had set his wand down on top of the desk in a mocking gesture, wearing the same small smile as he gazed out the window over Harry's head. "I suppose the first thing I should start with is my birth-"

"Is there somewhere in your sick, deluded mind, that makes you think I _want_ to hear your life-story?" Harry growled, clutching his wand tightly in his fist. If he just managed to tilt the tip up, he would be able to fire a spell over the top of the table. But the way he was held in the chair made it practically impossible for him to move his wrist. All he managed to do was make a cramp build up.

The Dark Lord placed his cold eyes upon him. "Yes, actually, there is. Now, if you would stop interrupting, I might be able to get this over and done with before my dear Death Eaters lose patience with your little friends," he said with a feral grin that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. "Now, back to the story…"

"I was born on July the thirtieth at four minutes past midnight. I hadn't been alive an hour before I killed my first person of many that would pass in my lifetime. Of course, I hadn't known that at the time," the Dark Lord said with a nostalgic glitter appearing in his eyes. Harry stared at him in both horror and confusion. Finding the look on his face, the Dark Lord continued. "My mother was weak, and died soon after birth. I didn't need her. I didn't need anyone."

If Harry had doubted this man's sanity before, it was nothing to the disgust he felt now. And as the story continued, he wanted nothing more than to end his misery. Not because he was stuck in the same room with the son of the monster that killed his parents, but because he was stuck in a room with Voldemort's offspring and actually _intrigued _by the tale he was telling.

It made him want to throw up. But he couldn't help being drawn in by the words that carried through the room.

"I came into my powers very early, maybe when I was three or four. I discovered I could levitate books from the shelves, and make them float into my hands. I could turn the legs of the chairs into snakes, and converse with them. And, my most prized gift that I found, was the power of pain. I would find small creatures in the manor - mainly rats and insects - and use my powers to torture them, and finally kill them. The thrill I felt watching their bodies shrivel and exhaust all remains of life was unlike anything I had felt before - or unlike anything I have ever felt to this day. Taking the life of another living creature is a power above all else."

Triggered by the Dark Lord's words, an image of the lifeless body of the Death Eater he had killed flashed across Harry's mind. He had not meant to kill him. He was only protecting Ron. But bile had risen in his throat and his stomach was turning uncomfortably.

The Dark Lord watched him with cold, twinkling eyes. "As I got older, I adapted to the nature of my home. There were mysterious visitors in the night, all wearing black and partaking in strange meetings with my father. On more than one occasion, as I hid in the curtains watching and listening, I witnessed some of them dying by the wand of my father. I used to look forward to the meetings, not because of the knowledge I would gain, but because of the death I would see. As I watched, I knew that was what I wanted to do when I got older. Be like my father. He was the most powerful person I had ever seen … and he was mine.

"Although he wasn't the most caring man, he taught me many things in the short time that we were together. Things that many Death Eaters dreamt of learning, but never could. Then, a day after my tenth birthday, he disappeared. My father - Lord Voldemort - vanished. The Death Eaters ravaged through our home, searching for things unknown to me. I didn't know what had been going on - I wasn't scared, merely confused. Almost a week passed, with me awaiting the return of my father. I was left alone in the manor, waiting for someone who would not return. But then, one day, a man arrived and took me away.

"A year later, I was a student at Durmstrang under the name of Thomas Riddick."

Harry had no idea why the Dark Lord was telling him this. All he wanted to do was get out of her with his friends and Ginny. Perhaps even put an end to this Dark Lord's reign. "I don't want to know this," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"I know, but I felt the need to share with you the pain you caused me," he said with a dark glint in his eyes. "Because it was _you _who took my father from me. It was _you _who sent a ten-year-old boy across the country - orphaned and alone - with no idea where he was or what had happened to his father. _You_ did that, Harry."

"I was only _one _when that happened!" Harry shouted, struggling against the invisible ties binding him. "And don't forget, it was _your father_ who took my parents from _me_! And then tried to kill me! A baby! So don't try to make me guilty for something I couldn't control!"

"But I believe you could control it, Harry," he said, twirling a wand in his long, pale fingers. "in your young, one-year-old mind, you held more power than both your parents combined, as well as Lord Voldemort. I grew up in Russia, learning the Dark Arts, hearing stories of the 'Great Lord Voldemort' who had been destroyed by an infant not even out of diapers. I knew then, I had to kill the one who took my father from me. He would have to pay - slowly, painfully, miserably. I would make that child, when he was older, watch as I killed his friends and family, and any other that was close to his heart. That was _my_ dream, Harry, even when my father was resurrected, I clutched to the single dream of taking the life of the one who destroyed mine."

"But what happened when you had Voldemort back?" Harry said angrily. "I didn't see you at his return! Why weren't you there? I thought you would've spent every day of your life searching for your vanquished father - if you had _loved_ him so much! Then, later, why didn't I see you at the Ministry, or in my visions? Wouldn't there have been news if the _Great_ Tom Riddle had had a son?"

The Dark Lord watched him from over interlocked fingers, his face emotionless apart from the dark flashing in his cold eyes. "I did search for him, more than you would ever know. But it was hard looking for someone thought to be dead. There was no one I could ask, no one I could go to for information. I knew not the names of my father's loyal Death Eaters, or had no recollection of what they looked like - just images of white masks, dark robes, and green light."

At these words, Harry heard a familiar screaming cut through his mind, following by all-engulfing green light. He closed his eyes briefly, ridding the horrid images from his mind and trying to calm the sudden pounding of his heart. When he opened his eyes, it was to see the humoured grey ones of the Dark Lord staring back at him.

"We have a lot in common, Harry," he said softly, and Harry was startled to find that he was talking in parceltongue. "More than you would ever know. We were both deserted at a young age by our parents - you a lot earlier than me - with us both having no choice in the matter. We both grew up with people who did not love or want us. And we both shared a common bond that stemmed from our youth - revenge on the person who took our parents from us."

"My parents loved me," Harry said coldly.

"And you think my father did not love me?" the Dark Lord said in an equally cold voice.

"Voldemort was not capable of love or even emotion," Harry answered. "He only had hate and pain, and the power to cause death and destruction. He was a monster."

"You're wrong, Harry, my father loved me, in his own way."

Harry shook his head, a dark smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No, he didn't. Voldemort loved no person. He could not and would never. Why do you think he didn't name you?" Harry knew now the answers he had been looking for. The Dark Lord had wanted revenge on his father's death - but also because of the rejection he felt. Voldemort couldn't love another person, so the fact that he had had a son was confusing and just wrong. Why would Lord Voldemort - a man who killed people and destroyed families for a living - want a family of his own?

The answer - to carry on his work.

Voldemort had wanted a male heir, who would be there to continue killing and ravaging when Voldemort was finally destroyed. Voldemort did not love his son, and didn't even name him because of that, so he could grow up as cold and angry as he himself had grown up. If Voldemort had showed any kindness to his son - even if he had been capable - his son would not have been as angry and so totally psychotic as he himself had been growing up.

So, the Dark Lord was not as angry at Harry for killing his father, but because his father had spent his entire life - even when he had returned - trying to kill Harry. Voldemort had paid more attention to Harry - his eventual downfall - than to his own son and heir.

The Dark Lord stared at him with so much malice and pure _hatred_ in his eyes, Harry believed it would be enough to send many crashing to their knees. But because Harry was tied up, and because he knew the painful history of the broken - and completely demented - man before him … he felt no fear.

Only power.

"You're father didn't even love you enough to name you," Harry continued. "He was so intent on killing and taking over the world, that he completely ignored the son he had created to carry on his bloodline. You were even hated by your own father, and you're blaming it on me - the one he spent his entire life fixated on."

Before Harry could react, he was biting down on his tongue to stop from screaming as the Cruciatus Curse ravaged through his body. The pain was so intense and so totally overwhelming, he lost sense of who, where and what he was. He didn't know anything except for the endless pain coursing over his body. He wanted to die. _just kill me,_ he thought desperately through his breaking mind, _kill me and end my agony._

But in another part of his mind, a part hidden from the reaches of the Cruciatus Curse, a voice spoke up. _Death is the easy way out, _it said in an unfamiliar voice. _think of those you would leave behind. What would happen to them?_

Then, as the pain became a distant ache, he thought of Ginny and Ron, and the rest of the Weasley's. he thought of Hermione and Tonks; Lupin and the other Order Members. They were all in danger and would more than likely be killed if he didn't do something. And he couldn't bare to lose them.

"No-no!" he choked out as the pain immediately stopped. His entire body was throbbing. His bones felt splintered. His head felt as though it had been split in a thousand pieces. He couldn't string a full thought together in his mind. His skin was on fire. His insides felt like that had been brutally squeezed and bruised. But he still looked up, through the pain shooting across his head and down his spine. He blurrily stared at the image he knew was the Dark Lord's and held his gaze. "N-no."

There was heavy silence, in which Harry held his gaze until it had cleared, then he straightened his body, clutching his wand tighter. The Dark Lord stared at him, a strange emotion flickering over his face. "No?" he repeated. "Who says you have a choice in the matter?"

Harry, still in agony from the Cruciatus Curse, hardened his gaze. "I do," he said with a stronger voice. "it's my choice and I say _no more_."

With his eyes completely on Harry, the Dark Lord opened his mouth to answer. But he never got the chance. There was a black blur and a second later, the Dark Lord was hunched over in his seat, a steady line of blood seeping down his face from his hairline.

Severus Snape, with paper-weight in hand, loomed over him. He looked at Harry, his cheeks slightly tinged with red from the sudden exertion. "Potter," he simply said.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**Eh… Umm…. meekly waves "Hey guys!"**

**ducks a multitude of keyboards**

**Okay, look, I'm so incredibly sorry for the abysmal time it took for this to come out. I had it written a while ago, as well as most of a chapter for Shattered Memories, but then got a computer formatted. Stupid me, having already copied everything to a CD, forgot I had written more on these stories. Even stupider me, forgot to re-add them to the CD.**

**Whoops … completely mental me, loses at least ten thousand words of work. **

**So, here I am, having written most of this today. I know its boring, but I needed to explain the Dark Lord's history and his motives. I was meant to have more in this chapter, but didn't want to keep you waiting any longer, and decided would save the rest for the next chapter, which will probably be the second last one if everything goes to plan (which it probably won't). **

**I won't be surprised if no one is still reading this, I won't blame you if I get a million flames. But, school and home-life has been hectic, and I needed a break from everything for a while. I think everyone should give writing a break for a while (obviously, not as long as me) and see the good it does. I had exams a month ago and did really well in most of them because I hadn't been absorbed in stories and writing. But not that I'm in my last year of school (scary as hell!) I'm gonna try and get my stories done before the new year.**

**So, the next chapter shouldn't be that far away. Well, I hope not anyway. Thanks to those that reviewed last chapter, you're the greatest! And thanks to those that have stuck through my annoying update times. LOL. **

**I LOVE YOU ALL!**

**So, Later Days (hopefully soon) …**

**DW**


	36. Redemption and Revenge

. . . - - - . . . - - - . . .

**Behind Emerald Eyes**

. . . - - - . . . - - - . . .

**Chapter 35 – **

**Redemption and Revenge**

Harry stared at Snape, mouth hanging stupidly open, eyes wide in surprise. He glanced at the Dark Lord, bested by a haggard and thought-to-be defeated old Death Eater, who was now wearing a face of clear satisfaction. "Wh-what just _happened?_" Harry stuttered. "You were just tied up, then you were there, and now… _Merlin!_"

Snape looked at him, raising a single black eyebrow as he did so. "I, Potter, much like yourself, do not like to be _pitied_."

"How did you get out of the chains?" he asked in astonishment.

"The chains were cut when you were transported into this room. The Cutting Curse barely missed my arm, but I shifted to the side just enough so the spell sliced through the chains. I sat still after that, listening, waiting … biding more time for the moment to act."

Harry still gaped at him, but he managed to close his mouth and clench his jaw to stop it moving in the same fashion as a fish. He looked back down at the son of Tom Riddle, who hadn't moved since Snape had hit him over the head with the paper-weight. Swallowing an uncomfortable lump in his throat, he asked, "What now?"

Snape considered the question by drawing his eyebrows together; Harry noticed that his old professor was favouring his left leg, taking weight away from the right. After the surprising amount of energy he must have used to leap from the chair and scoop the weight from the table to knock out the Dark Lord, it looked as though it was catching up to him, as Harry watched a thin sheen of sweat glitter on Snape's forehead.

"Now, we need to get you and the Order out of here," Snape said after a moments pause. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I need to kill him! _Now_!" he said a little louder than he had anticipated. Both he and Snape quickly looked at the Dark Lord. But he hadn't moved.

If it was possible, Snape's eyes darkened. "No, Potter. You need to get Ginny, the Weasley's and the rest of the order out of here. We need to reassemble and then we can come back."

"But look at him!" Harry said, pointing to the Dark Lord hunched over the desk. "It would be so easy! I could just kill him now! It wouldn't even be hard!"

Snape looked at him, the signs of stress clearly showing in the beads of sweat trickling down his face and the slow spread of red up his neck. He actually looked at him - straight into his eyes. Or, more precisely, through them. "Are you really that much like him?"

Harry started, confused. "What? Like who?"

"Like Riddle. Like Voldemort."

There was a tense silence that seemed to throb with tension and absolute revulsion on Harry's part. "_Hell no!"_ he hissed with anger. "I am nowhere near alike to _them!_"

"You're acting like them. Even thinking like them. Killing someone while they're down. I may be as Dark as they come, Potter, but I know where to draw the line," Snape said in a soft, haggard voice. "And I know for a fact that your parents didn't die just for you to kill a man while he is unable to fight back."

"He's not a man! He's a monster!" Harry said, unaware that his voice was rising with each word. "And who are you to talk anyway?"

Snape sighed, adjusting his posture so he was holding onto the side of the desk. "I have spent many years on the wrong side, pretending I was doing good, with just that thought getting me through the haunting hours. In that position, I was able to see both sides as they really were. I was part in and part out of both of them; a sort of grey, I suppose. But, while I was there, I watched everyone. How they acted, how they spent their days … and how they spent their nights. I saw them as they were. Their true nature. Their true face."

"And what has this got to do with me killing the Dark Lord?" Harry said angrily.

"I saw who they truly were, Potter. What they were capable of, what they weren't capable of. What they feared. And what their reactions were to some of the things they did themselves. How their actions determined who they were and who they turned out to be.

"If you defeat the Dark Lord while he is incapable of fighting back - a powerless person - it will haunt you forever. I know the type of person you are. The emotions you feel and the objects in this world that trigger powerful feelings inside of you. I have watched you since you first started Hogwarts - watched you as you came into your powers and turned into a man that would make your parents proud. And I was one of the only in this world that understood the reasons you left after the war. I understood the reasons you decided to leave. And just like your emotions back then triggered your leaving, your actions today will once more determine your future.

"If you kill the Dark Lord now - no matter all the crimes he has committed and nightmares planted into young minds - no matter all the terrible things he has done, you will regret taking his life when he has no way of preventing it. I may be Dark, Potter, a servant of the night, no more than an old enemy of your father … but I know you. And I know that if you kill the Dark Lord, you will never forgive yourself. Your nights will be haunted by the image of the life you took. Your thoughts will be consumed by pictures of _Him_ and his life which was taken by you. Even though the Dark Lord is the son of the man that killed your parents - even though the Dark Lord is the one who took your girlfriend and unborn child - even though he _deserves to die _- you would not be able to live with yourself until the day you die … and then it will be too late."

Harry stared at the man he had always thought he hated and who had hated him in return. He stared at him and for the first time in his life, he actually _saw_ him He saw a man who had made one terrible mistake in his youth and had been paying for it ever since. He saw the shadow which had been trying to escape the darkness but finding himself unable. He saw a broken image of Severus Snape, so used and mistreated that he had started to actually believe that's all he was meant for.

Harry stared at his old Potions Professor and for the first time, he _understood. _

He opened his mouth to speak - to say something that would be a adequate enough to describe the indescribable emotion coursing through his body - he opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance.

"That was a lovely speech, Severus, and I'm amazed that you had that much life left in you," the hauntingly familiar voice of Tom Riddle's son said, as he slowly stood up from his position behind the desk. "But I believe our hour is up." Before either of them had the chance to say a word or to react to what was about to happen, the Dark Lord clipped his fingers and transported himself, as well as Harry and Snape, back out into the main Entrance Hall. The sudden shift in position must have placed extra pressure on Snape's sore leg, as he collapsed as soon as they had appeared, with a bitten back cry of pain.

Harry immediately righted his footing, a spell coming to his lips, but it was no use. The hand previously clutching his wand, now only held air. He looked up at the Dark Lord, his heart plummeting at the sight of his own wand, as well as Snape's, lying in the man's hand. Harry quickly looked around, his heart plummeting at the sight of Ron kneeling on the ground, the front of his torn robe soaked with fresh blood. His freckly face was pale and drawn, and he looked to be fighting an inner battle on where or not to stay upright or lie down.

George was still on the stairs, with Fred standing protectively over him. The Dementors lined the walls, with the Death Eaters providing a tighter circle in the middle. Hermione and the others were still in the centre, their arms bound and wands in the hands of one of the masked Death Eaters. Hermione was looking straight at him, wide-eyed and pale-faced, with a dry stream of blood matting hair to her cheek.

Then he looked to Ginny, who was standing straight-backed and confident, even though their were outnumbered and injured. The determination and hope in her eyes as she looked at him was enough to build his own strength back up. He had to do this. They had to get out.

"You didn't really think, Harry, that a little knock to the head would be enough to take me out, now did you?" The Dark Lord said with a soft pout when Harry didn't reply. "Oh, you did? Well, I was awake through the whole thing. I heard all of Severus' lovely, inspirational story and his persuading you not to do away with me when I was incapable of fighting back." The Dark Lord looked to Snape, who had pulled himself to his feet. The Potions Master glared at the son of Tom Riddle with intense, hate-filled eyes. "I didn't know you had the capacity to love?"

While the Dark Lord was talking, Harry was trying to figure out a way for them to gain the upper-hand. But with most of their number tied up, or worse - hear, he looked at George and Ron, his stomach clenching painfully. They needed a diversion, or at least a distraction. He looked to the Order Members, with Hermione and Ron in amongst them. Ron was kneeling beside Hermione, his breath rising and falling slowly as if it took away most of his energy to keep breathing. Harry locked eyes with him, listening to the Dark Lord talking to Snape, and also trying to work out what Ron was trying to tell him.

He kept tilting his head to the side, his eyes wide and piercing. He kept nudging his head in that direction and mouthing a word that looked like 'wants'. Something inside of him clicked, and rejecting the thought that kept repeating _stupidstupid, _Harry glanced to the Death Eater at the side of the group, who had their wands in a front pocket of his robes. Harry looked to Ron again, his eyes widening in sudden realisation.

Licking his lips, he switched his eyes back to the horridly familiar face of the Dark Lord. Now, to grab the Dark Lord's attention. "Will you stop with the insults already," he said, gaining many surprised looks from both his own group and the Death Eaters. Snape stared at him as if he had suddenly turned into his father. Harry kept his eyes on the Dark Lord, though sent a silent command through this and Snape's recent mental-connection.

_**Wait.**_

"What did you say, Harry?" The Dark Lord said.

"What? You didn't hear me?" Harry said, heart beating in his fingertips. He was itching to have a wand in his hand; he could practically feel the magic pulsating just beneath the surface. "I said, to stop insulting people. We've heard it all before, and your talking is starting to irritate me. I swear, you could talk the life out of a Jarvey."

Perhaps that wasn't the best way to distract attention away from Ron, but it seemed to be working. The Dark Lord only had eyes for Harry now - dark, angry, calculating eyes that were starting to give him the creeps. "Why, Harry, I think you're stepping over the bounds a little. But that's okay. I know when to take a hint. I think I've wasted enough time talking. It's about time to start some good old-fashion duelling. How about it, Harry; are you up for it?"

The Dark Lord stepped forward, Harry's wand in his fingertips, tempting him. Eyeing the Dark Lord suspiciously, he stepped closer, licking his lips and reaching for his wand. He snatched it from his fingers quickly, stepping back and drawing it in front of him. The magic was bubbling in his fingertips, seeping into his wand until he could feel it softly vibrating.

"You want to duel?" Harry said. He remembered his duels with Voldemort. If he was anything like his son, Harry would have to be prepared.

The Dark Lord grinned manically. "I sure do. Now, my friends, please clear an area for us to play; I wouldn't want anyone to get hit with a stray spell." The Death Eaters started to move the Order Members back near the wall. Ron was helped by Hermione and George, and when they reached the wall, he stood there shakily. His eyes were bright though, watching the Death Eater with their wands carefully.

Harry looked back at the Dark Lord, knowing the end of this nightmare was near. He glanced at Ginny, who stared at him with wide eyes, her confidence gone. She was scared. Harry nodded, smiled weakly, and whispered, _"I love you."_

"No rules, duel to the death?" Harry said clearly, glaring at the Dark Lord. He looked mildly shocked, a flicker of strange emotion passing across his eyes.

"Sure, why not?" he said, as if this happened on a daily basis for him. They took the required amounts of steps apart, turning to face each other quickly, wands poised at their sides, fingers itching in anticipation of the battle. Harry stared into the clear eyes of the Dark Lord, directly into his darkened soul and the powers he inherited from his father.

Snape said there was no honour in killing a man when he was incapable of fighting back. Well, he could fight back now. And Harry would not stop until he was dead.

. . . - - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

Ron was waiting for the perfect time to strike. His shoulder was killing him, and he could feel the arm blood soaking the front of shirt and running down inside his clothes. Every time he inhaled, pain would shoot through his entire body and his head throbbed so badly he thought he would pass out.

Harry and the Dark Lord were about to duel, and he wouldn't sit there and do nothing while his best friend could die. So, he was waiting - waiting for his time to act. Looking at Ginny, his dear little sister, his heart could break. And her child - his _nephew_ - he was going to be an uncle! An _uncle!_ He couldn't believe it. He, Ron Weasley, would be an uncle. It was so surreal.

And Harry … Harry was going to be a father. He deserved it. After so much had happened to him, and no blood relatives left for him to relate to, he was finally going to get someone he could love with all his heart. Someone who would be completely dependent on him - not because he was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived - but because he was Harry. Brother. Boyfriend. _Father._

But not if they didn't win this battle. Not if they couldn't rise from the ashes. Not if they weren't the Order of the Phoenix. Not if they -

_Now!_

He faux collapsed, dropping to his kneels with a pained gasp, and falling forward onto his chest. Pain shot through him, almost blinding him with its fury, and he bit back a strangled cry.

"Ron!" he heard Hermione drop down to his side.

"Wait for it," he hissed quickly before a Death Eater pulled her up, back into the line. Ron felt a kick to his side, and he rolled over, deliberately pulling his shirt so his blood-soaked bandages could be seen. The Death Eater kicked him again, prodding his wound with a wand. The pain was intense, but Ron kept his mouth and eyes shut, pretending to be near death.

"I think he's dead," a Death Eater stupidly commented, nudging him with his foot again. He heard a thump.

"He's breathing, you idiot," another said, the one who more-than-likely hit the first.

"What do we do then?"

"I don't know, leave him, it won't be long before he's dead," the Death Eater said gruffly. The first one, who had the wands, knelt down beside him. Ron felt hands on his chest, as the Death Eater looked for any valuables. _Vultures, _Ron thought scathingly. But it didn't matter. Now was his time to act.

He opened his eyes a fraction, searching for the pocket which contained their wands. The Death Eater leaned forward more, placing his own wand on the ground to get a better feel around Ron's pockets. Ron's eyes locked with those of Hermione hovering above them, and he winked.

With a swift kick upwards, the Death Eater's head flicked back with a crunch, blood immediately spewing from his nose. Hermione grabbed the wand from the ground while Ron leapt for the Death Eater's pocket. He pulled out the wands, just as one of the other Death Eater's noticed what had happened. Hermione sent a stunner at him, fortunately her aim was true.

Standing up and ignoring the pain that spread throughout his body, he thought, _you **will **be a father Harry. _

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

**Hey guys. Yes, I'm still alive. What's it been? Three months? Or something equally ridiculous? Well, I thought I'd give you all an early birthday present. I'll try to write a chapter for Shattered Memories while I'm in a writing mood, but I can't promise anything. **

**There will only be two more chapters after this. The last one will be more like a prologue, but it still counts as the last chapter because of certain things in it. I'll try have another chapter out within a couple of weeks, or sooner, as I'm on holiday for over a month. I've been writing a lot of original fiction lately, and haven't written any HP Fanfiction since the sixth book. I think I've grown out of it or something. I dunno. **

**Well, I hope you all are still with me, and major thanks to those that reviewed! I only need four more reviews before I hit 400 --- the most reviews that I've ever gotten! Whoo! Let's say, if I get to 400 by, umm, 9:30 tonight, I'll try to get the next chapter up on Christmas day. How's that? That's only 4 reviews people in over two hours. **

**Think you can do it? And the next chapter will be dedicated to the 400th reviewer, if I can figure out who it is. :P**

**Thanks a lot, and hope to write more soon!**

**Laters**

**DW**


	37. Old Ends and New Beginnings

_**This chapter is dedicated to Odonata6, who was the 400th reviewer! Whoo!**_

. . . - - - . . . - - - . . .

**Behind Emerald Eyes**

. . . - - - . . . - - - . . .

**Chapter 36 – **

**Old Ends and New Beginnings**

**H**arry moved swiftly, the words of spells not even having to leave his lips before they burst from his wand. He hadn't used magic in four years, yet it was as if he had never stopped practicing it. It was as natural as flying, and if he hadn't been duelling the evil spawn of Voldemort, he would have enjoyed it immensely.

But, as it was, the battle was intense. Curses flew from both their wands in multi-coloured flashes, streaking through the air like ribbons in the hands of a running child. They duelled without pause, without break, and soon they both had sweat trickling down their necks.

From the corner of his eye, Harry had seen Ron collapse, and his stomach had constricted. His momentary lapse of concentration caused the tail end of a _Sercumsempra _to slash his hip. Biting back the pain, he turned his full attention to the Dark Lord, who was growing increasingly frustrated at the lack of contact his spells were having.

"I see the old man taught you well," he bit out after Harry blocked a nasty olive coloured curse.

Gritting his teeth, Harry shot back, "And I see your Daddy showed you some of his tricks as well." A Cruciatus Curse skipped through the air above his shoulder.

"Well, you know, the usual," the Dark Lord said, shrugging. The duel continued, both their powers diminishing, but neither willing to give up without a fight. Harry could see other jets of light around him, where his friends were lined against the wall with the Death Eaters and Dementors. He threw a bright white spell at the Dark Lord, only wanting to distract him. With the bright light briefly blinding the Dark Lord, Harry used this as a chance to see what was happening. What he saw lifted his heart yet made his blood run cold.

It seemed Ron had only been faking his faint, as he was now up and fighting with the rest of the Order. The Death Eaters had them matched, but the Dementors gliding forward were sucking their energy, and the Order had no time to cast a Patronus against them.

A _Crucio_ hit Harry square in the chest. For a moment, there was nothing but unidentifiable pain, errupting from the deep insides of his body. There was nothing but hurt, darkness, and the desperate need to end it all.

And then it stopped, as suddenly as it had come, and Harry was left with his hands on his needs and bile coating his throat. "Aww...what's wrong? Little Harry had enough of the big ol' Dark Lord?"

"No," Harry coughed, surprised to find blood on his hand when he rubbed his mouth. "Just not feeling my best."

"Well, that will soon _all _be over."

Harry looked up, straightening out the pain in the lower part of his back. "And why is that?"

The Dark Lord grinned sadistically. "Because you will be dead."

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

She did not know where to look. People she loved were fighting and falling everywhere, all on her behalf. If she hadn't been stupid enough to get caught in the first place, none of this would be happening. But she knew whining over the past would not help the future, and she did not have time to pity her own unfortunate situation.

The magical binds tying her were digging into the flesh of her wrists, and the cord around her neck – much like a collar – seemed to be constricting whenever a spell hit the Dark Lord. Obviously, it was not good.

And Harry seemed to be losing. A _Crucio _had just hit him and he was doubled over, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The Dark Lord said something to him and not a moment later, they were fighting once more; coloured blurs streaking between them.

Ron was fighting magnificently. Tall, bloody and angry, the red-head was spitting spells with more force than necessary. And to think, he had just been sprawled on the ground, with every fibre inside her screaming that he was dead. But then, as the scavenger went through his coat – _bastard –_ the roles were reversed. Ron was up, a wand in his hand and a weapon now in everyone else's.

The fighting was coming closer to where she was silenced and bound at the back of the room, a staircase to her left and a door to the study across the hall to her right. There was nowhere for her to go, even if she _could _move. Not that she would ever think of running, but being tied up and unable to shout instructions would count as being useless.

And Ginny Weasley _hated _being useless. Almost as much as Harry did.

_No_, she thought as the fighting grew ever closer to her frozen position, _I **will** get out of this and help Harry. _A spell rocketed from the tip of Harry's wand, slicing deeply into the shoulder of the Dark Lord. And as the spell struck, the cords around her throat grew ever tighter. Ginny swallowed the rising blood in her throat and thought, _I just hope I get out of it soon._

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

There was nothing else except the Dark Lord. That's what Dumbledore had once told him. _"Remember, Harry,_" he had said in his wizened old voice, _"there is only you and your opponent; nothing else. The battles around you are not **your** battle. You cannot fight your own war and theirs at the same time. Stay focused."_

_Easy for him to say, _Harry thought bitterly, ducking and sweeping around on his heals to avoid a Comatose Curse, _he was never in my position._ With all his friends and loved ones around him, fighting a fight in which only one would rise, it was hard to keep his complete concentration on the Dark Lord and their own duel. There was too much to going on around him; too many more important things around him to lose.

Ginny was still tied up near the stairs. Lestrange, who had been watching her, had been drawn away by an irresistible invitation by Remus to duel. The pair were now near the far wall, their battle almost as intense as Harry's own with the Dark Lord. Now, Ginny was without guard, just as they had all planned. Hermione, who was duelling with a stocky, cloaked Death Eater – who she could easily finish off – was drawing him closer to where Ginny was held.

He also spotted Wormtail, half-hidden in shadows by the wall, looking uncomfortable and nervous and all matter of the word _scared._

Turning back to the matter at hand, and quickly blocking a rather strong _Bombarda_ aimed at his head, Harry, without saying a word, shot an Advanced Stunning Spell at the Dark Lord. It missed, but it wasn't as though he was expecting it to hit. He just wanted to keep the Dark Lord moving, keep him angry and frustrated. Then, when his energy was down and annoyance had overridden caution, Harry would take him down.

But now, it was time to duck. A Killing Curse flew harmlessly over his head, shattering a candelabra on the far wall. It had previously been solid gold. Now, it was strewn in hundreds of pieces across the room, over both Death Eaters and Order Members – fighting to the end.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

Severus Snape had seen enough and _lived_ through enough battles between Good and Bad to last him another three lifetimes. So, it was no real surprise when the "good" started to fight back. The "bad", unsurprisingly being the Death Eaters and their 'Oh So Unholy' Leader, were now being pushed to their limits. Spells and curses and random hexes were buzzing everywhere, so it looked like they were stuck inside a crystal cave, with light striking each wall and reflecting out.

It would have been a magnificent sight, _if _he cared about such useless matters.

No. Severus Snape _did not _and _would not _ever care about such pointless things as "crystals" and "pretty colours". He was more of a practical being – a practical being who liked to be a _living _practical being. Because, at the moment, even though most had forgotten about him and was standing a good way off, hiding in the wall's shadow, just watching.

Watching and waiting.

Like he had been doing for the last twenty odd years. Sitting, waiting, watching. Biding his time, a more appropriate Slytherin motive. A traitor to both sides; spying for both, watching both, unsure which would be the more accurate choice. He was half-way between Light and Dark, and even though he had been Dark before Light, he tended to lean more for the "Good".

Call it the _Gryffindor_ in him, as hurtful and disgusting it was to even _mention_ that trait. Or maybe it was the many years he had spent under the teachings of one Albus Dumbledore, or the many hours he spent inside the Gryffindor Golden Boy' mind.

And even though the memories and thoughts he sifted through were not entirely that '_Gryffindor-ish_', maybe some of the boy's annoying ways of thinking infected him while he spent pointless wasted hours sifting through the garbage of a mind some called 'brilliance'.

_Skrewt shit, _he swore mentally, _if there had been any brilliance inside that boy, it was his pure luck at escaping messy situations. _Even as he thought it, he watched as Potter barely missed a Killing Curse, which should have destroyed him had it not been for the badly aimed curse from Weasley, still hovering on the stairs over his dead brother – or _almost_ dead brother. He could be doing more useful things than moping over a lost cause. _Stupid brat._

Potter was losing concentration. He was too busy watching out for his stupid friends around him. Arrogance. Pure and complete arrogance. _'Look at me! I don't even have to _watch_ when I fight a Dark Lord! I'm so brilliant' Blah, blah, blah... _

Yes, his "brilliance", was what had gotten him through the many encounters with the Dark Lord. Sure, it was his complete "truth and honour" that lifted him out of the dark. _Yeah right, _Snape snarled in his mind, _I've been through the brat's mind. And everyone's trying to tell me he only thinks 'pure and innocent' things. If thinking and almost _killing_ a man when he was down, is honourable, than I am a Snake's Uncle._

The Weasley Girl was still tied up at the front. Invisible binds, tightening around her body and the ample lump of her stomach. _Disgusting, _Snape spat, _the spawn of a Weasley and Potter. I hope I die today or in the near future – save me from the torture of teaching their insufferable brat._

But he had to hand it to her. She was controlling herself reasonably well considering nearly all her family members were currently fighting Death Eaters and Dementors around her. Two of her brothers were fatally wounded – that stupid sidekick of Potters was still going even though blood was seeping down his front – and the other one, who's twin was shadowing him like a bloody Dementor himself, had not moved since the Dark Lord had hit him with a rather nasty Dark Curse.

The girl, trapped and forced to watch the goings with no way of helping, sort of reminded Severus of himself – in a purely symbolic way. She was forced to stand there, trapped on both sides – even if she escaped the binds holding her, would she risk the life of her unborn child to fight? – and unable to warn others of what was going on, both from the Silencing Charm placed on her and the fear of drawing unwanted attention.

Snape, who had been stuck between two sides, neither wanting to fight or to sit back and do nothing, had wasted away in the shadows. Now, he was doing the same thing. Everyone else was doing something – even the Weasley twin was guarding one of the fallen, hanging his very life on the line. And what was Severus Snape doing? Standing in the shadows.

Standing.

In the shadows.

Like he had been doing for most of his life.

He _was_ no more than a shadow. Hovering between light and dark, unsure as to where he was supposed to go, staying away from both sides for fear of death. He had been a shadow for twenty years, and by the way he was going – standing in the shadow of the wall, while the two worlds he had lived in his whole life fought around him – he would spend another twenty years doing the exact same thing.

Potter ducked a little too late, his gaze torn away from the painful cry of Granger. He collapsed once again, bright crimson blood already painting half his face from a gash on his forehead. The Dark Lord approached.

And Severus Snape sighed. Albus had been the only one he had come close enough to respecting, maybe even _loving. _ And for the many years he had known him, the only thing that was common between them was Harry Bloody Potter. The son of Snape's childhood enemy and the son Albus Dumbledore never had.

Severus had done everything for Potter, risking his life over and over again for what he believed a lost cause. But Albus had always pushed him along, directed him back to the Light, all the while telling him it would '_save Harry'._

"_Help Harry, Severus. In the end, it will be **He **who will save us all." _Then Albus had _pleaded _with him to 'Help_ Harry_'.

And his last words to Severus, right before they stepped out for what they thought to be the Final Battle, had been, _"No matter what, Severus, you __**must **help Harry. No matter what. Help him, Severus."_

Then they had stepped out onto the Battle field, Snape donning his Death Eater's mask and covering up the pain and hurt for the final time.

"_Help him, Severus..."_

"Help, Harry Bloody Potter," Snape said aloud with an irritated growl, "this is my final debt, Albus. Then, we're even."

From the shadow of the walls stepped Severus Snape. No longer part of the Dark, but not entirely Light either. He was in the middle, a sort of grey. And with a wand clutched in his hand and heavy head lifted in determination and acceptance, he stepped forward to repay the last of the debts he owed to one Albus Dumbledore.

The only person in his entire guilt-ridden, darkness-engulfed life, he had come to _love._

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

The ground met him unforgivingly. Hard stone slammed into his chest and he heard a muffled _crack _resonate from deep inside. Pain blinded him for an instant and he just wanted to stay lying on the cement, feeling cold throb into his battle-worn body, relieving the heaviness of his pumping blood. He just wanted to stay there, to stop fighting and succumb to the darkness pressing against his subconscious. Tempting with delicious thoughts of sleep and soft sheets and the warm embrace of the one he loved. He could practically feel her arms around him, keeping him safe and secure from the hardness of the world. He breathed in the slightly damp smell of stone and blood and sweat, imagining it to be the luscious scent of flowers of her perfume.

He barely felt the pain of the Cruciatus Curse as it sliced into his back. Words, barely identifiable, broke through the sludge of his mind. "Giving up so soon, Harry? I at least thought you would face me before I killed you – it tis the _honourable_ way to die."

Familiar. The voice was familiar. Confusion blanketed him for a scattering of moments before harsh realisation crashed unrelenting upon him. Voldemort's son. The Dark Lord. Death Eaters and Dementors. Ginny.

_Ginny._

Bloodied hands shakily came beneath him, a wand gripped awkwardly between slippery fingers as he hoisted himself up to his knees. Hair was pasted to his face with what he presumed was blood, where it came from was anyone's guess. His whole body was throbbing – he could hear the beat of his heart over the rushing of his blood. His head was splitting, not from the ancient pain of his scar, but from a spot above his left temple.

Where the blood was coming from, presumably.

He slowly brushed the hair away, rubbing blood from his eyes to look resignedly up at the looming figure of the Dark Lord, not five paces away.

"Not giving up," he rasped, painfully forcing himself to stand, albeit crookedly. "Just resting my eyes for a second."

A look of pure disgust mingled with something akin to shock came upon the face of Tom Riddle's son. Icy eyes flashed with malice. "You Gryffindor's are too arrogant to know when you're beat!"

Harry sighed, wiping a dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth. "So I've been told." Slippery fingers clutched at a well-worn wand, power building up at its tip. A moment later, the battle resumed with as much intensity as before.

The Dark Lord was getting frenzied in his attacks. Desperation laced each curse that escaped his chapped lips, fear shown deep within angered eyes and the many spell marks over his body were starting to ache. Harry was slowing also, but he had something to fight for now – something to live for. The Dark Lord only wanted power, power and revenge for his father's death.

Two son's of power fighting for victory over the other. Two so alike yet totally different battling for honour and glory and what they believed came above all else.

A Cutting Curse split the skin on the Dark Lord's arm, spitting blood out into the magical air. Hesitation, a minor mistake on his part, cost him his wand. It flew through the air, rattling along the floor to come to a rest by the stairs. Ginny's eyes, the only part of her that could move, watched it frightfully.

The room throbbed with nervous energy as the other duels throughout the room ceased in action, all eyes on the pair in the middle. Harry, bloody and worn, but wearing a triumphant look on his wearied face. The Dark Lord stood, hands twitching, eyes on the wand in his opposer's powerful grip.

Licking his lips, he looked up. "What are you going to do now, Harry? Kill me when I have no way of defending myself? Just like you wanted to do earlier, before Severus shared some of his unknown wisdom?" Even as he spoke, Severus Snape appeared, hovering on the edges of the clear space in the middle. The Dark Lord spotted him. "Oh, Severus, come to watch the show?"

"No, just to witness your destruction," Snape said smoothly, dark eyes glinting maliciously. Harry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, wondering where the man had disappeared to after he and the Dark Lord had started fighting. Snape looked little better than he had in the office, if not worse.

"Always the watcher, aren't you, Severus?" The Dark Lord said, sweat suddenly beading on his pale forehead.

Snape's lip curled. "It's what I do best."

"Enough talk," Harry said roughly, stepping forward with his wand erect in front. "I want you to release Ginny and let my friends go." The Dark Lord grinned, showing off two rows of perfectly white teeth.

"Let Ginny go?" he repeated innocently.

"Yes," Harry growled, "you heard me."

The Dark Lord smiled. "As you wish!"

There was a faint _crack_, that echoed around the heavily crowded hall, and the Dark Lord was gone. Harry felt his stomach plummet and before he could look around to find his missing opponent, a painful cry drew his attention. "_Harry!_"

It was Ginny, now in the hands of the Dark Lord with his wand pressed into her temple. He smiled viciously. "Let her go, Harry? Is that what you wanted?"

"YES!" Harry shouted, starting forward. "_Let her _GO!"

"Very well, then," Voldemort's son said triumphantly, swiftly pushing Ginny out, where she stumbled but righted herself an equal distance between both Harry and the Dark Lord. She glanced at Harry, fear and hope in her eyes before two words sliced through the air. "_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

She slowly turned, green light rushing towards her and Harry's screaming all she could hear apart from a loud rushing that quickly grew louder.

It hit.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

The darkness suited him well. Staying hidden, out of the way of stray spells and the hateful eyes of all around. He was an outcast, had been all his life. Even at school, with James and Sirius and Remus, and the Marauders. He had felt accepted for a while, like he was actually apart of something more.

But then, as months trickled into years, he realised he was not a Marauder, he was a nuisance. He had heard it from his so-called friend's mouths. He was just some kid they had pitied on the train, picked on by older students, who they had chosen to defend. They hadn't wanted him around, they only felt sorry for him.

Peter Pettigrew. Little Peter Pettigrew. Little lump of a boy, no good at anything, except being a good friend to James and Sirius and Remus. And even then, he had been blinded by joy at the thought of being accepted. He had been too stupid to realise that they only let him hang around because they felt _sorry_ for him.

Peter had been perfectly happy up until fifth year, when he had overheard a conversation between his 'friends', about how _annoying_ he was, and how they just wished he'd _disappear. _He had ran off, sad and upset and depressed, taking refuge in the owlery.

It was at this point in his life, when he was weak and wanting acceptance, that it came in the form of Lucius Malfoy. He had told him glorious things about the Dark Lord, and the wealth and power that would befall him if he showed Lord Voldemort his support. All he had to do was say yes, take a tattoo and show up at a few meetings. Then he would be accepted for who he was, loved for the man he was inside, and given the chance to show everyone how truly 'Great' he was.

Then, he had been presented before Voldemort, taken the mark of his slavery and forced to suffer through so much pain to just feel accepted.

Made to watch the torturing of young children, even students at his own school. Made to even _kill _and _torture_ others. And finally, after years of enslavement, _made_ to give away the location of the only ones who had ever made him feel any remote feelings of acceptance.

Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail as many now called him even though it brought up painful memories of past mistakes, knew he was a miserable excuse of a human being. He had even been told it by many of the other Death Eaters, and more often than he would have liked by both Voldemort and his son.

He was a miserable excuse of a human being, but at least he admitted it. He was also a miserable excuse of a human being who held a Wizard's Debt to one Harry Potter. The same Harry Potter who is the son of Peter's childhood friend, James. And the same Harry Potter who was now facing the newly risen Dark Lord and son of the previous Lord Voldemort.

He wanted to run. He wanted to run and hide and never see the face of another human being again. He wanted to, more than anything else in the world. But that was not enough. From his spot by the wall, hidden by shadow and distraction, he could see the fear plain as night upon the face of Ginny Weasley.

Peter Pettigrew knew what would happen to her if no one was able to help. She would be killed like Lily and James. Like dear Sirius and that poor student on the night of Voldemort's return. All gone because Peter was too weak and too afraid to give up the acceptance he felt.

But, now, he knew, was time. Time to step up to the bravery Sirius and James and Lily had all shared and believed he contained. Time, he knew, to fulfill the debt he owed to Harry Potter.

There was only one thing left for him to do, only one thing that could maybe make up for all the mistakes he had made. Only one thing he could do to show he truly was, a Marauder.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

A flash of green light, a blur of black, and Peter Pettigrew lay crumbled on the blood stained floor.

Harry stared at the vacant glassy eyes of his parents' betrayer then to the look of simple acceptance on Wormtail's entire face. His debt was repaid. Ginny was soon at his side, crying and shaking, but he didn't have time to comfort her. The Dark Lord was staring at the limp body of his 'servant', a look of shock mingling with disgust.

He looked up, taking in Ginny safely behind Harry's back, and the wand aimed at his heart. He smiled a smile so much like his father. "Maybe Lord Voldemort did not give you enough credit, Harry Potter."

"I get that a lot, too," Harry snarled. "Now, give up or I'll make you!"

The Dark Lord laughed a laugh that crackled through the chamber. "You will _make _me, Harry? How are you meant to do that, with so many standing against you?"

Harry shook his head. "Perhaps you should look again, _Riddle_."

Anger flashed in the Dark Lord's eyes, but he looked around the hall anyway. What he saw, made rage boil inside him. All the Death Eaters had been either been killed or stunned and were lying by the wall, or were held hostage by members of the Order of the Phoenix around the clearing. The Dementors, having lost interest in the battle of humans, had disappeared.

He looked back at Harry, a grim line appearing as a mouth. "I believe that _I_ did not give your _friends_ enough credit, Harry," he said, "but mistakes can happen."

"Yeah, they can," Harry said gruffly, "at least I'm not one of them."

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'd be careful what you say to me, Harry, you never know what may happen."

"Oh yeah,"Harry coughed, placing a hand to his chest. He felt a hard lump in his breast pocket. "And what may that be?"

"Oh you never know," the Dark Lord said as Harry coughed again, spitting blood up once more. Using this moment of distraction to his advantage, he said, "This, _Advada Kedavra!" _Harry was unprepared for the attack, still overcome by the coughing fit and the pain errupting in his chest. He watched the green light flash towards him with no way of moving. He was done; exhausted both physically and magically. Even if he wanted to move he couldn't, not even to drop to the ground to dodge the curse. It all happened so fast.

Someone shouted, "_Accio!" _and a suit of armour came flying out from the shadows of the wall, intercepting the curse before it struck. The armour split into thousands of pieces with a shrieking sound of tearing metal.

Putting his pain aside and the blood bubbling in his throat, Harry pulled out the DA Badge from his pocket, flinging it into the air and shouting, "_Waddiwasi!"_

It shot through the scattering bits of shrapnel, straight towards an unsuspecting Dark Lord who merely let out a soft, "Ooph," as the badge shot through his chest.

Sounds of metal hitting the ground. Someone's silent sobbing. And the slow fall of the Dark Lord as his knees hit the ground. Blood pooled at his breast, spilling over a black shirt laced with silver. A pale face, inset with icy eyes inherited from his father, Tom Riddle's son looked at his own wound. Glancing up with a hollow gaze, he fell forwards on the floor with a soft _thump._

Silence. Thick, unrelenting silence.

Slowly, Harry took in the dead bodies of both the Dark Lord and Wormtail, feeling sickened with the death he had witnessed yet somewhat satisfied that it was all over. His arms were heavy with exhaustion and he let them drop to his sides. He looked around the room at the Order Members all looking back at him. He looked at Snape, who sneered and looked away.

Then he turned and gazed at Ginny. His Ginny. His love. She gazed at him, dirty-faced, red eyed, bleeding and bruised, but smiling. "Hello," she said through the tears.

Harry walked to her, placing one hand on her cheek and the other on the taut skin of her stomach through the raggedness of her clothes. "Hello," he smiled.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

**Hello, Hello!**

**Yes, you're not dreaming or hallucinating or any other form of seeing things! It is I, QueenWeasel, with an update in less than a month of my last one! (At least, I _think_ it is :P) **

**I just wanted to get this out: squeezed it from the distant confines of my mind, which is filled with random bits and pieces of story plot-points to every fanfic imaginable. Squeezed it out, panted and squeezed some more, to finally I gave symbolic-birth to this _thing. _**

**I hope it will suffice till the next chapter which will be the final of the story. Yes, that's right, the final chapter of my longest story. Sniff. Even though it's more like a epilogue, it still counts as the last chapter because i say it does. :P**

**So, I hope you all like this, because I've had this chapter and most of what will happen in it worked out in my head for a while now. Answers and loose ends will be given and tied up in the next one (hopefully) and anything you don't seriously understand in this one, just leave in a review and I'll clear it up next chapter.**

**Ok, I think that's it, so I'll hear form you all later!**

**Later Days...**

**QW **


	38. Life

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

**Behind Emerald Eyes**

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

**Chapter 38 - **

**Life**

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will have a son . . .mothered by the last and only in a line of fire, and be heir to the mighty lion. Powers only the father can match, will he bear. Born as the fifth month rises and when the moon is split . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will have a son . . ."_

**B**ack and forth. Step. Step. Step. Back again. Step. Step. Step. Forward. Step. Step. Step –

"Y'know, if you keep doing that, some poor old bloke will trip over the carpet you've trod up," Ron said conversationally, watching as Harry glanced at the clock. His comment went unnoticed.

"Do you think she's okay? It's been almost three hours!" He looked to Ron for comfort, emerald eyes wide and afraid.

"She's fine, Harry, _relax!"_ Ron laughed. Harry nodded distractedly, glancing at the clock once then at a door to their left, before starting pacing the same track. A sigh escaped Ron's lips. "I tell the lad to relax and what's he do? Start making _me_ nervous..."

"It's his first child, leave him alone," Bill laughed casually, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossed above his head. Cool as always.

Ron looked at him coyly. "And you had your first child _when_? Last month? The month before? And you're suddenly the expert on stress?" He snickered. "If I remember correctly, you were freaking out more than Harry!"

"Yeah, but at least I didn't do _that_!" Bill laughed, pointing to the clock. Ron looked at it to find the hands spinning wildly around, picking up speed by the second. Harry, who was still pacing erratically below, was oblivious.

"Harry, calm down!" Ron said, standing and placing a tight grip on his friend's shoulder. "Before you tear the place apart!" Harry stopped his pacing as the hand of the clock slowed down at half-passed seven – eight hours after the appropriate time. He nodded quickly.

"Yeah, I know, I'm just so bloody nervous and excited and terrified!" Harry shivered, glancing at the clock on the wall pointlessly then at the door. "I wonder if she's o–"

"She'll be fine!" Ron said calmly. "They have the best Healer's in there with her as well as Hermione and Mum! Honestly, mate, there's nothing to worry about!"

Harry looked at Ron stoically, a finger in his mouth where the nail was being anxiously chewed. "I hope you're right."

It was almost five months after the final – and hopefully _last_ – battle, in which Harry defeated the vengeful son of the late Tom Marvolo Riddle. The battle had been fought fiercely by both sides, and even though the Light came out on top, it was not without its losses.

Hestia Jones had been killed, as well as the two new recruits to the Order: Taylor Rainman and Antoine Gabrielle. They had been brought into the Order to strengthen ties between Russia, France and Britain, and unite the forces against evil. Their presence had brought alliance but not before it could be put to good use. Their deaths, though tragic, truly connected the countries.

The Death Eaters that had been captured – or worse – were put back in Azkaban, now run by wizards, with strengthened wards to hold them. The Dementors had vanished with the life of Voldemort's son and were believed to stay that way until another powerful form of evil reemerged. In which case, the Ministry and Wizarding World would be ready.

The rest of the Order were fine. Those that had been injured were healing, including George, who had been hit with what the Healer's identified as a Blood-Leadening Curse; slowly, the curse spread throughout the victim's body, poisoning the blood it touched and leaving it with traces of lead. If the curse was left long enough without removing, the victim would die a dreadfully painful and excruciatingly slow death.

Fortunately, though, they had gotten George to the hospital just in time, and even though he still had some trouble moving about at the speed he once did, he was almost back to his bouncy, cheerful old self.

Everyone else was recovering well and getting over the traumas of the battle and the raids of the rogue Death Eaters afterwards. Evil was leaving the Wizarding World, and even though they hoped it would be for the last time, they knew more would take its place in time.

Ron was back playing Quidditch, or had been before the season ended a few weeks ago. They made it into the Grand Final – and won. Hermione and Harry were back teaching at Hogwarts, but as Ginny's pregnancy came to its final stages, Harry took leave to stay with her all the time.

"I know how you feel, son," Arthur said from his spot by the water tank. He was looking rather pale and sweaty. "I've been through seven of these myself and it never gets any easier, especially to know it's your daughter in there!"

Harry placed a shaky hand to his head. "Thanks and all, Mr Weasley, but that _really_ didn't help me."

The door to the side opened and Hermione's head appeared; bushy-haired and wide-eyed. She smiled. "You can come in, Harry." He didn't need telling twice; Harry was already walking through the door.

The room smelt of the sweet scent of flowers, which were lining each of the walls and dresser from the many admirers who had heard of Ginny's stay in hospital and sent well-wishes and gifts. It looked like an entire gift shop, Harry thought bizarrely, before taking in the rest of the room.

There was a bed in the centre of the room, the head of which rested against the wall, where a female Healer stood with her wand taking notes on a levitating board. She glanced and smiled at him as he approached. Hermione was close at his side, gripping his elbow tightly, letting him lead her closer. Molly Weasley stood by the bed, her cheeks and eyes glistening with tears, one hand clutching a bunch of tissues the other holding her daughter's hand.

And then there was Ginny. Sweaty and pale with messy hair pulled into an awkward knot at the side of her head and dark bags beneath her eyes. She glanced at him with drained eyes and dry, cracked lips smiled blissfully.

Beautiful. As always.

Harry walked closer, his heart beating as if in slow motion in his chest. Each pound brought him closer to the small bundle lying in his beloved's arms. Ginny looked down, shifting the pale blue blanket slightly, then looking up.

"Hello," she said with a slightly hoarse voice.

Harry licked his lips. "H-Hi."

She smiled once more. "Care to meet _your_ _son_?"

There was no need for an answer. The word's tumbled around in his mind and time slowed as he stepped closer. The bundle of skin and blanket was lifted into his arms and he got the first view of his _son._

Emerald eyes looked up into his own. Large, beautiful eyes. The mirror image of his own yet entirely different. Innocence and curiosity and wonder – emotions they both felt. The child felt like nothing in his arms yet he held it as if it were made of the finest glass.

Emerald eyes sleepily drifted closed then opened, blinking away the stupor. Tiny fingers, miniatures of his own, reached for touch, closing around Harry's thumb. He was suddenly overcome by emotion. The spot behind his eyes burnt and he felt tears pry their way out down his cheeks.

His son. Emerald eyes and a shock of bright red hair, scattered thickly over his head, with a small spot at the back already sticking up. Harry ran a finger over the child's pale, red-splotched cheeks, his hands no longer shaking but steady in their hold.

He didn't want to look away but when he did, it was with eyes so overcome by tears of joy he could hardly see anything. He looked down, wiping his eyes with his shoulders, to look once more at his _son_.

Son. Family. His.

"Ginny..." he breathed huskily.

"I u-understand," she replied, her voice cracking with her own emotion-brought tears. "Come here." Harry, keeping his eyes glued on those of the child, slid onto the bed beside Ginny. Her arms snaked around his middle, enclosing both of them tightly.

"I love you," he said fiercely, looking into her eyes with intense passion and devotion.

Ginny smiled wearily, exhausted and weak, yet at the most alive point in her life. "I love you too."

Harry, letting Ginny place one hand beneath the little bundle of existence in his lap, looped an arm around her back, linking it with her free hand. Her head drooped to his shoulder. "Will you marry me?" he said softly, turning so he could look in her eyes. She quickly looked up at him, mouth open and eyes wide. She quickly grinned, kissing him and pulling away.

"Yes, Mr Potter, I will," she said, before being pulled into a passionate kiss. Hermione and Molly politely turned their backs, both their cheeks wet. Hermione went to the door, disappearing outside for a moment, and returning with Ron and the other's close behind. It seemed as though the rest of the Weasley's had turned up, as Charlie, Fred and George followed their father and brothers inside.

Ginny and Harry pulled apart, looking down at their son, and smiling. "What are you going to name him?" Molly asked, lightly blowing her nose with a tissue. Ginny looked up at Harry, nodded slowly and smiled.

Harry looked around at everyone and said, with a heavy heart ready to explode, "His name is James Sirius Albus Arthur Potter."

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

The wind howled under the door, clutching at the darkness in the corners and shying away from the glowing red embers watching from the grate. Shadows stooped from the ceiling, thrown along thread-bare carpet from stretching legs of chairs and the towering posts of a large bed.

Twisted sheets silhouetted a figure lying upon the high mattress. Groans and gasps and strangled sounds escaped from his slightly parted mouth, as he turned and tossed beneath the covers in distress.

"No..." he breathed fearfully, his face turned to the side, so the ruby light from the fireplace illuminated the creases in his brow. "_Never!"_

Suddenly, he sat up, a curtain of black hair falling around his face, oily with sweat and mistreatment, and mussed from a fitful episode on the pillows. Endless eyes, clouded from sleep, widened as realisation dawned as he looked around the room. Growling and swearing, he swung his legs from the bed, landing his bare feet upon the thin green rug.

Across the room, he opened a cupboard and pulled out a glass and bottle. Setting them at the table and roughly sloshing ginger liquid into the glass, it disappeared down his throat in one hurried gulp. Screwing his face up at the horrid taste and quickly refilling for another, Severus Snape turned to the fire, so the reddened coals lay glittering in his eyes.

"_Stupid_ Potter and his _stupid_ Prophecies," he growled and the second glass of whiskey disappeared with another swallow. "Penguin suits..."

He shuddered.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

Disclaimer – I Do not own Harry Potter and never will.

**And that's it. The last chapter of Behind Emerald Eyes.**

**I can't express my thanks to everyone who reviewed and read in words, except that I continued this story because of you! You're all the greatest, seriously, and none of this would have happened!**

**I had that last part of the chapter planned way ahead of everything else, except for the kid's name, which i had before i even started the story. I know it's long but I might right another couple of scenes later on, when he's older, than show why. Other scenes may include Harry and Ginny's wedding, James' first day at school or first signs of magic, and any other funny scenes i might imagine. **

**Other information you may want to know, is that Ron and Hermione are godfather and godmother, and James was born during a Lunar eclipse – think back to the prophecy at the top of the page. He's also Godric Gryffindor's heir, another reason why Voldemort wanted Harry dead, and why Voldemort's son wanted all three of them dead – Harry, Ginny and their son.**

**So, if i decide to write the scenes later on, I'll put them in a one-shot story probably called something like: **Behind Emerald Eyes: Extras** or something like that. So, keep a look out if you want to read them. **

**Thanks again to everyone who reviewed or even read, it is so great to know that something I wrote has been linked to so many people. It's the greatest accomplishment finishing a story. Thanks and I hope to hear from you all soon!**

**Later Days...**

**Dana**

**aka**

**QueenWeasel**


	39. Author's Note

**Hey.**

I'm just writing to clear something up. About the last chapter - _nobody_ got the bit about Snape! I can't believe it! But i suppose it happened a way back in the story, probably a good nine months or so ago.

So, I think it's in the chapter called **Back and Burning Black**- can't remember what number. Flick through until yolu get to the bit about Snape talking about Harry and the prophecy he has. I'll include the quote here anyway, save you having to go back.

* * *

**_  
Extract from Back and Burning Black  
_**Behind Emerald Eyes

Severus had spent many long nights trying to figure out that very problem. Why would another Dark Lord be after Harry Potter? Voldemort had had good reason to want him dead and that had been the prophecy. There wasn't another prophecy as far as Severus new, and two prophecies about the same person was just as unlikely as him dressing up in a penguin suit.

Or, in other words, was never going to happen.

* * *

So, I'd thought I'd write a piece at the end about this little quote, to lighten the overall mood of the story and finish the tale with some irony - perhaps sarcasm.

You all know how I _love_ sarcasm.

Thanks to those who have reviewed. You're great. And I'l hopefully have those **Extra's** out soon.

Laters...

Dana aka QueenWeasel


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